Endless Love
by LostInLost18
Summary: Charlie survives the Looking Glass mission and, as the helicopters come, he and Claire make a life altering decision to stay. Follow their story through the years they spend on the island together, watching Aaron grow up and the challenges they face.
1. Nothing to Go Back For

**Endless Love **

Summary: My first fic! Hope you all like! Very AU, but cute all the same. Charlie survives the Looking Glass mission and, as the helicopters come, he and Claire make a life altering decision to stay. Follow their story through the years they spend on the island together, watching Aaron grow up and watching their own family grow before their eyes. Last chapter will be very poignant and significant and you'll see why later on.

_Chapter 1: Nothing to Go Back For_

She had no idea when the decision had floated into her mind, though it was probably between staring at the walkie in Jack's hand, waiting for Hurley's voice to announce that Charlie was back, and falling into Charlie's arms when she'd walked back to the beach, sobbing her little heart out with relief. The decision was a difficult one, especially when it had evolved from a mere fantasy to reality, but what made it harder was the fact she couldn't find a reason to go back. Not a real, solid one anyway.

"I want to stay," she'd told an incredulous Charlie. "When the helicopters come, I won't be getting on one."

"Why?" he'd asked, tilting his head to one side and examining her curiously. "You can get Aaron home, back to a life where he has a roof over his head and where he can go to school or ride a bike. Why don't you want that?"

"I know when we go back, we'll end up apart again," she said, tears bursting from her eyes despite the fact she'd promised herself she wouldn't cry. "We'll drift apart, I know we will. We might not want to but we will. You'll go on with your life and I'll go on with mine. We won't be together. Something will always keep us apart. After all we've been through, Charlie, I don't think I could take that. We need you."

"Claire." His hands were on hers, his eyes reaching out to hers in a truly admirable attempt to make her see sense. "If you don't want me to leave your life, I won't. But I went down there, risking my life, so that you and Aaron could go home. Don't you want that?"

She was clearly tormented by the idea, he could see that. The burning desire to keep her family together weighed heftily against the idea of raising Aaron in a normal environment, where he could do all the things Charlie had said and more. But he also realised she was stubborn and prone to doing daft things for the people she cared about. And he realised he wouldn't have her any other way.

"Yes," she murmured, leaning her head against his so that she could hear him breathe. "But here, somehow, real life doesn't get in the way. We don't have to worry about mortgages or…or getting jobs. We can make a life for us here. I know it."

"This is crazy," Charlie told her earnestly, though a smile tore at his lips.

"I know," she said, laughing weakly. "That's why I trust it."

She gently grabbed his face, glanced at him with the look of someone who had complete and utter faith in what they were about to do, and gently kissed him, letting the tears spill out of her eyes and down hers (and then his) face. Her fingers traced every detail on his face and she didn't seem to care that he was completely soaked from the ride home. If anything that made her cling on tighter, knowing she'd almost lost him, that she'd almost had to grieve for yet another person she'd loved.

He clung onto her gently, aware Aaron was comfortably nestled between them in the Bjorn he'd fashioned for her all those days ago. He realised how much he loved them both, and how much he'd stand to lose if they ever were separated again.

He chewed over what Claire had said. She had a fair point because, back in the real world, how would a wonderful, radiant, gorgeous girl like Claire have ended up with him? He couldn't fathom how they'd be able to stay together, what with his dead music career and the fact she had an infant plus herself to support. They'd struggle in the real world, and no fantasy they could ever conjure up of being together in the real world could displace that fact.

But _here_, here they made sense. They made sense in the same way peanut butter and jelly did; on paper, not such a good idea but when mixed together…wow. The fact they had no responsibilities was probably what kept them together, what kept them sane. He loved her so much but knew in the real world they would've reached the point where his love for her would've meant he'd walked out on them if it would've made a damn bit of difference.

"You're willing to give up everything, everyone you've ever loved, for me?" The words made no sense to him, because what she was saying made no sense.

"Yes, because I've got nothing to go back for," she admitted. "My mom's in a coma, possibly dead by now. I can't…" She closed her eyes, clearly blinking back more tears. "I can't go back to a world which doesn't have you in it and go back to the person I used to be. It doesn't work like that, Charlie."

"It can," he pointed out. "You can make it work. We all can."

Claire shook her head, adamant that she was going to stay on the island. She remembered fondly the time she'd written out a personal message for help and had cast it off into the world to secure rescue for their friends. So much had changed from that period of brief happiness to now, where every choice she made was tinged with regret. This choice, this decision, however returned her to that brief happy period, and she revelled in it.

"I've made up my mind," she said, smiling as if it was the best decision of her life. "I'm staying. Aaron will have an unconventional childhood, that's true, but it doesn't mean I'll love him any less."

Charlie groaned softly, looping an arm around her.

"Why do I let you talk me into these things?" he muttered, grinning widely. "You are, without a doubt, the most insane Australian I've ever met. And, as you can imagine, that title faces some stiff competition."

She laughed and leaned her face into his shirt. She didn't care that it was damp; she just relished the physical contact she'd been deprived of.  
_

_3 Days Later… _

It might not have been Penny's boat, but the helicopter which landed on the island, on the strip of beach they'd all called home at some point, was certainly not a poor substitute. Sun had spotted it first, and she'd run towards it like someone who'd just seen the sun for the first time. Everyone soon followed suit and might as well have had their tongues out, because pure lust was written across their faces for that helicopter to be real.

Everyone had turned to Claire when the helicopter had landed, expecting her to be the first to get on board. To their surprise, however, she remained static, glued to Charlie's side like they were two pieces of the same puzzle. Aaron was in Charlie's arms, gurgling contentedly as if he was the happiest baby ever born.

"Claire?" Jack said tentatively. "Are you ready to go? Everyone agreed you should be the first…"

"I'm not going," Claire said strongly.

"Neither am I," Charlie added, putting an arm around her, as if claiming her for his own.

"_What?_"

Kate stepped forward, looking surprisingly offended by their statement. She ignored Charlie for the moment and turned towards Claire, as if silently appealing to her to think rationally.

"Why are you doing this? I thought you wanted Aaron to have a normal life?" she asked, shocked at how upset she was by her friend's decision.

"It's not unusual for a baby to be brought up on an island, Kate," Claire said softly. "We decided there's no place for a broken family like us in the real world. We wouldn't belong and there's a very good chance we would end up apart, for whatever reason that would be." She slipped her hand into Charlie's. "We can't be apart, Kate. You can understand that, can't you?"

Kate's eyes filled with tears. She would miss her friend more than anything but realised why she was doing this – why they were _both_ doing this. She didn't envy the life they faced but envied the fact they'd made this decision together and envied the fact they were confident in themselves to cope with the challenges they would inevitably face. She looked to Jack and then at Sawyer, trying to imagine making this kind of decision with one of them. She couldn't see it, she really couldn't, even though she loved them both with all her heart.

"What do we tell your families? Your friends?" Jack asked quietly.

"You tell them we died," Charlie said quietly, speaking for the both of them. "We don't want the world trying to find us, Jack. We don't wanna be found."

Jack turned away for a moment, overcome with emotion at the thought that he would have to _lie_ and tell these wonderful people's families they had died. He couldn't do it. It felt wrong, somehow. But he knew he'd end up doing it anyway, because he respected them both so much and loved them like family.

Rose and Bernard had also decided to stay, as had Locke, and they'd disappeared into the jungle some time ago, deciding not to say goodbye. Not because it was too hard, they'd claimed when Claire had caught up with them, but because they were 'done' with the drama the survivors brought to their lives. Locke had gone off the deep end when Jack had made the radio call, Claire had told Charlie a day after he'd come back. He'd killed an innocent girl and had disappeared without looking back. She'd seemed sad by that realisation, understandably because she'd once found a friend in him when Charlie had pushed her over the edge. Now, however, she couldn't even rustle up any hatred for him. She felt numb that someone she'd once trusted had, once again, managed to shock and betray her, however unintentionally.

Sun, it had been decided, would be the first to get on and Jin clambered on next to her. Her goodbye to both of them had been brief, simple and yet still had the power to move Claire to tears. That was Sun all over though.

Kate was crying softly as the helicopter returned, pulling Claire into a fierce hug, not being able to believe that this was the last time she'd see her friend. This was the woman whose baby she'd delivered in the dark, creepy jungle, the woman who'd she'd risked her life to help time and time again and the woman who always found a smile, no matter what the circumstances were. This just wasn't happening.

"Bye, Kate," Claire said, weeping against the older woman. "Thank you for helping bring Aaron into the world. I love you."

Kate's response was inaudible, possibly incoherent with the amount of tears which lurked at the back of her throat, having swallowed them as they'd flown down her face and into her mouth.

"Come on, Freckles," Sawyer called softly. "Time ta go."

Raising her head, Kate released Claire and then turned to Charlie, smiling weakly at him as she pulled him into a hug. This was the man who singlehandedly had brought the helicopters here, proving that his earlier declaration of being every trek's coward was utterly false. This was the man who'd made her laugh, who'd cherished Aaron and Claire with such passion and love that it almost choked her with envy, and who'd been a loyal friend to everyone here. She would miss him a lot.

"Love ya," Charlie whispered in her ear.

"Love ya too," she whispered back, kissing him on the cheek before withdrawing as Sawyer and Jack gently tugged her onto the helicopter.

What followed was an entourage of goodbyes, tears and gradual disappearances, as Charlie, Claire and baby Aaron slowly watched their friends leave the island. It was a haunting moment, because part of them still believed they would be getting on board. Part of them _wanted_ that. But they understood that this fairytale romance only seemed to exist on the island.

In the real world, back where it mattered, this kind of romance might never have thrived the way it seemed to do here. In fact, they couldn't conceive a situation where they would've been together and, out of gratitude, it was part of the reason why they'd made this decision together to stay.

Claire slipped her hand in Charlie's, like she always did when they both were troubled or sad. He squeezed hers lightly and they stood there in silence, watching as Jack managed to get everyone off the island just like he'd promised.

When it was only Jack left, he turned around and barely saw them as tears swam in front of his eyes, blurring his vision. He stumbled towards them, reaching Charlie first. They clumsily embraced like two brothers reuniting rather than parting ways. Jack wondered when losing people would stop _hurting_ and then figured he'd have to get used to it.

"Be safe, man," Charlie murmured. "Let…Let my brother down easy, yeah?" Jack sniffed as he released him, staring into his eyes, hungry for the merest premise that he would changed his mind.

"What's his name? What does he look like?" he asked, genuinely curious to know what Charlie's brother looked like.

"A taller, more arrogant version of me," Charlie said with a smile. "His name is Liam. Liam Pace. You'll know him when you see him."

Jack nodded and took Charlie's hand, holding it there for a second before firmly shaking it and moving onto Claire.

"Thank you for all you've done, Jack," Claire began, her voice shaking. "Please…look after Kate, ok? You two always seemed pretty close. She's gonna need someone to trust."

"We'll be fine," Jack said reassuringly. He glanced at Aaron. "Take good care of these guys, Aaron. They're gonna need ya."

Aaron's only response was to dribble and lazily extend a hand, as if to say, _there, you've said your piece, now be gone with you._

Jack reached down and enveloped Claire in a firm embrace and then released her, kissing her cheek and staring at her, as if trying to remember her and imprint her in his mind. He did the same for Charlie and for Aaron, before walking backwards and then turning round reluctantly to board the helicopter.

"What about those three?" they heard the pilot ask, before the helicopter lifted up into the sky and disappeared out of sight.

"What about us three?" Claire repeated quietly to herself, before turning to Charlie, her eyes red from crying.

He was clearly thinking about another topic though; she could tell because his eyes were alight with some sort of amusement as some perverse image ran through his head. She poked him, asking him what he was thinking about.

"I bet we end up like one of those washed up castaways you see on TV. I'll have a beard which goes down to the ground, you'll have ridiculously long hair and we'll all devolve into cavemen. Or cavewomen," he added quickly.

She shoved him playfully. "That won't happen," she vowed. "However we end up, we won't end up like _that._"

"Wanna bet?" He raised his eyebrows and poked his tongue out.

She rolled her eyes and then turned serious. "How are we going to survive, Charlie?" she enquired. "I didn't really think this through beyond getting you to agree with me."

"We'll go to the barracks and nick a house," Charlie said thoughtfully. "There's bound to be food there and there'll be beds too, I'll be bound."

"Ok," she said, happy to be accepting orders again. "Then what?"

"We'll take each day as it comes," Charlie said, shrugging as though this was a casual set of circumstances for him. "Isn't that what we did anyway?"

"I can't believe they're gone," Claire murmured, her eyes glued at the sky. "I can't believe it's just us. It seems so…surreal."

"Technically it's not just us," Charlie pointed out. "Rose and Bernard are around here somewhere, and so is that madman, Locke. Besides, since when did we need anyone else, Claire? Well," he amended, "Jack was always handy in an emergency. So was Sayid, I guess."

"I miss them already," Claire said quietly. "Is that crazy?"

"No." He hugged her close to his chest. "I miss them all too. If I'm honest, I was hoping you'd be on one of those helicopters, flying out here with Aaron and never looking back."

"What about you?" she demanded. "Where would you have been? With us, I hope."

He smiled sadly and she realised he'd never intended to come back from that Looking Glass station. Something stung at the back of his eyes which wasn't quite regret but something close to it, as if his survival was unintentional. Then her mind slowly put the pieces together – Desmond and Charlie's long, drawn out talks; the goodbye he'd given her; his whispered 'I love you' to Aaron; the way he'd walked away from her, shoulders hunched and head bent, as if he was never coming back.

"Desmond saw you drowning to save us all, didn't he?" she asked, her voice choking as she contemplated that awful scenario.

"Yeah, but something changed," Charlie replied, gazing down at Aaron in a futile attempt to avoid her gaze. "I dunno what it was but all of a sudden Desmond starts waving his arms and pulling me out of the slowly flooded room that one eyed freak had caused." He shrugged. "He says that the helicopter would've been there anyway, no matter whether I lived or died. The fact is if it hadn't been that one, it would've been another."

"Why did you _do_ that to me?" Claire hissed, hitting him hard on the arm.

"Ow!" he yelped. "What was that for?"

She scowled at him, releasing his hand as if it were infectious.

"You know I've been fighting for you – for us – for a long time," she replied vehemently. "I told you we'd get through this together but it seems like lately you've been on your own. Or with Desmond, anyway." She sneered the name, clearly displeased with the Scotsman for his actions – or lack of actions, as the case may have been.

"I only did it for you," Charlie said quickly. "Claire…you know I'd walk the ends of this Earth and back to get you off the island. Desmond told me my death would bring the helicopter that got you off this island. I wanted to be there with you, Claire; it physically _killed_ me inside to walk away knowing I wouldn't come back. But if it got you rescued, it would've been worth it."

"Worth it for who?" Claire asked, her tone less severe. "If I had got rescued, you wouldn't have been there, fulfilling your promise to let me and Aaron stay with you in L.A. Remember that?"

"Yes," Charlie replied with a soft grin. "You nearly hacked my ear off, if I remember rightly."

"Because you wouldn't keep your head _still!_"

He grinned at her and, somewhat reluctantly, she smiled back, resting her head against his shoulder as they watched the very faint dot in the sky disappear before their very eyes. Aaron started crying softly, as if aware that a great change had dawned upon them, and Charlie passed him wordlessly to Claire, realising she needed to feel him in her arms to remind her that the world might've gone but the people she truly loved were right beside her and weren't going anywhere.

"Ssh," she crooned. "Mummy's here and she'll never leave you. Never, ever, ever…"

She rocked Aaron back and forth gently and then walked away from Charlie, heading towards the shore, allowing her feet to sink into the wet sand as the waves washed over them. She felt calmer, somehow, though only moments ago rage had threatened to completely dissolve her serenity, only because she'd been so terrified at the mere _premise_ of Charlie dying that she'd felt the need to lash out because he'd kept secrets from her. This time, however, he'd lied for _her_, to keep her from hurting. Still, the thought of losing him shook her up, and she knew she wouldn't let him out of her sight from now on.

They were in this together now, no matter what.

"Hello? Is anyone out there?" a weak, quite hoarse voice called out. "Hello?"

Charlie whirled around, suddenly on alert. Claire seemed blissfully unaware; she was holding her son and whispering – or it could've been singing – something to him that he felt was privy only to them. He decided to investigate.

The source of the voice wasn't far. It lay just beyond the bushes as a matter of fact, in the form of one Benjamin Linus who, it seemed, had been left tied against a tree, looking battered and bruised as if he'd endured one too many beating.

"H-Hello…" he greeted Charlie, looking tired. "Mind untying me?"

Charlie stared at him, unsure what to do. He looked around for counsel, then realised he was going to have to make this decision himself. Jack wasn't here anymore, and he had to accept that like a man.

"Why should I?" he asked suspiciously. "You kept Jack, Kate and Sawyer prisoner and sent that one eyed _maniac_ down to me."

"Yes." Ben didn't seem to want to hide it. "Yes…it's true. But I've been here for three days and, from the sounds of things, everyone's gone. You've got no reason to keep me here anymore."

"Claire and Aaron…"

"I have no interest in them," Ben said bluntly. "I just want to go back and find _my_ people. You can understand that, can't you, Charlie?"

Charlie wasn't going to even ask how he knew his name. He was done with these people and didn't really want to start a war that he and Claire certainly couldn't finish. Like Rose and Bernard, they'd retired against all this drama. They were done running through the jungle and escaping from these maniacs. They just wanted to be left alone.

"Fine," he said wearily. "But on one condition…"

Ben waited, watching him warily.

"You take us to the barracks," Charlie continued. "We just want to be left alone. We decided to stay and all we want is _peace._ But we can't stay on the beach, it's not safe."

"Fine," Ben agreed.

Charlie bent down and untied Ben, wondering where this tolerance had come from. He'd been bent on hunting down and killing these bastards down but now…now his anger was all gone. He had a family to take care of; a baby who seemed to adore him as if he was his father and a woman who was everything he'd ever wanted and more. And, by some miracle, she'd forsaken her life back home to stay with _him._ She was either clinically insane or he'd done something right in a previous life or something.

"You aren't gonna do anything stupid, are you?" Charlie felt the need to ask. "Because I will not hesitate to hunt you down and kill you with my bare hands if I think you'll hurt Claire or Aaron."

"No, I won't. Considering I've just seen my daughter leave this place without so much as a farewell for me, I think you can pretty much assume I'm harmless now I've got nothing but this island to protect."

"Charlie?" Claire sidled up to him, looking inexplicably frightened. "What's _he_ doing here?"

"He won't hurt you," Charlie reassured her. "He's going to take us to the barracks, love. Then he's gone for good. I promise."

She smiled softly at him, sadness still in her eyes for her friends.

"'Kay," she murmured back, in much the same tone she'd said goodbye to him in.

"Let me just get something before we go," he said quickly. "Will you be ok here for just a sec?"

"Sure," she said, nodding. "Go ahead."

He glared at Ben, silently reinforcing a threat, before dashing off to Aaron's crib and snatching up his ring, placing it lovingly on his finger whilst feeling thankful that he might actually be able to give this to Aaron himself one day.

He turned around and sauntered back to Claire, who, thankfully, was still there. He still didn't trust Ben as far as he could throw him but it seemed all Ben was able to do was stare up at the sky. Charlie felt an ooze of sympathy seep out from between his bones, because he knew that Ben hadn't even had the chance to at least _watch_ his daughter leave – she'd just disappeared, whilst he'd been tucked out of sight like he was a disease nobody wished to acknowledge.

"You're not bringing your guitar?" Claire asked with surprise, noticing his empty hands. She would've thought that was what he'd wanted to bring.

"No," Charlie said, his eyes downcast. "It's broken. Even if I could mend it, it wouldn't be the same. Why tarnish my memories by trying?" He smiled at her bravely. "It's fine, Claire. I've got you and the little 'un, and that's all I'll need."

"You're sweet," she said with a gooey grin. "It's one of your many charms."

Ben cleared his throat impatiently and they sighed, taking one last look at what had been their home for just over three months before following Ben into the thick jungle. What lay ahead they could only imagine but, like Charlie had said, they would take this one day at a time.

One day at a time.

**A/n: Like? Please review! I hope this is in character. This is my first attempt at writing, well anything! :P **

**Next chapter involves an argument, heavy explosions and the three little words we've been waiting for this couple to say for a long time! It's worth sticking around for! :) **


	2. As Long As I'm With You

_Chapter 2: As Long As I'm With You_

There was something disquieting about the silence in the jungle. After having almost three months of explosions, unexplainable screeching noises in the dead of night and the repetitive noise of gunshots, silence was not something they'd ever heard before. Not like this anywhere.

Holding Aaron in the Bjorn, Claire began to peel back the layers of her decision, wondering if she'd made the right decision to stay. She still stood by her reasoning for doing it – she couldn't ever imagine her and Charlie would survive in the real world, and she'd rather take her chances here than in the real world – but she wondered if she'd been utterly selfish for doing it, and whether Aaron would understand.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Charlie piped up, noticing her disconcerted look.

"I'm just wondering whether we're doing the right thing," she admitted, feeling small. "I don't regret wanting to stay with you, but this…this is scary. I never thought if I had the choice I'd stay here."

She wished she could read his thoughts. His eyes glanced over her and he seemed…conflicted? She wasn't sure. He was very difficult to read, even at the best of times. She detected a hint of trouble across his face, as if he was disturbed by her confession, and she could understand that. Maybe he wasn't happy with the idea either or maybe he was slightly miffed by the idea she _was_ regretting the choice to stay here.

"Penny for _your_ thoughts," she chimed back.

He smiled, yet she still read hesitancy in his eyes, as if he was afraid of divulging his thoughts. She frowned, hoping he wasn't just 'protecting her for her own good'. She'd had enough of that recently.

"I think this'll be an adventure, a learning curve," he announced, catching her off guard. "Think of this not as staying behind, but as an extended holiday."

Claire rolled her eyes and playfully hit him on the arm.

"You're so cute when you try to be funny," she said, quickening her pace as she tried to hide her smile.

"What do you mean _try_?" he asked suspiciously, trying to keep up with her. "I'm the funniest thing around."

"Yeah," she agreed. "I suppose that's true. Now that Sawyer's left, you _are_ the funniest thing around."

She grinned, trying to show she didn't mean it but he'd already stormed off ahead, evidently in one of his 'moods'. She rolled her eyes again – men could be such babies when it came to their pride. God forbid you should hit them where it hurts – mentally that was.

Charlie, meanwhile, had felt a little bit injured by that remark – how could she _not_ know that being funny was his thing? – but had decided he was going to rise above it and check on the situation with Ben, realising with a certain amount of pride that he was the unofficial leader from now on. He had a duty to protect Claire and Aaron, and he realised if he screwed up again that was it. Second chances were rarely given nowadays and third chances were even rarer.

"How much further?" he demanded, as he caught up to their former prisoner.

"We're almost there," was the furtive reply he was given.

"That's specific," Charlie snorted. "Then again, what else should I expect? You're not exactly the most helpful of people are you?"

Ben either didn't hear his remark, or he'd chosen to ignore it. Charlie felt frustrated, slightly disappointed by the Other's lack of response. He knew this man was the cause of Claire's disappearance, the reason he'd been hung from a tree and the catalyst behind that one eyed bastard's appearance in the Looking Glass, with the express intent of killing everyone inside.

He deflated a little bit, remembering that he and Claire wanted to stay away from all the drama the island normally brought about. Somehow antagonising the former leader of the Others hardly fell under the category of being peaceful and diplomatic.

"Where are your people likely to be?" he asked, making an effort to be civilised.

"In a place called the Temple," Ben replied curtly. "Not that that's where I'm going."

"You said…"

"Does it matter?" Ben snapped, turning around to glare at him. "Your people are off the island and I need to fix a mistake before it's too late."

"What mistake?" Charlie demanded, suddenly curious.

"You shouldn't have made the jamming stop," Ben replied bluntly. "Now that the island is in full view of the world, it means a terrible man will be able to find this island and destroy everyone on it."

"Wait," Charlie said patiently, holding up a hand. "What are you talking about?"

"It'll take too long to explain, and you'd hardly believe me if I told you," Ben replied, evidently disgruntled.

With a confused and bewildered expression, Charlie fell back a step. He was tired and frustrated of never getting the answers he wanted, not just from Ben but from everyone else. He'd been in the shadows for so long that he was starting to believe he wasn't trustworthy enough. For so long he and Hurley had complained about being kept out of the loop but it'd never been enough.

Claire matched her pace with his so that she could walk alongside him again. She noticed the disgruntled, even frustrated, expression on his face and wondered if this was still about the joke she'd made or whether he'd moved on to another problem, like men generally did.

"You ok?" she asked, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

"Everyone's a bloody cryptic," he grumbled, thankfully keeping his hand in hers, so she knew he wasn't annoyed about the joke she'd made.

"You're telling me," she agreed, mostly to keep him pacified.

He turned to look at her, noticing for the first time how physically worn out she looked. She had a dirt mark on her face, just above her eye, which didn't escape his attention, showing how much of a physical toll the last few days had had on her. Tentatively, he raised his fingers and gently rubbed it off, glad and filled with relief when she didn't shake him off. He let his hand linger there, shaken by the thought that, only hours ago, he was facing a dark moment where he would never have seen her again.

The moment was ruined by Ben's somewhat impatient voice.

"I've not got all day you know!"

Charlie released her gently and smiled softly at her, before starting to walk again, leaving her somewhat confused with feelings she'd never felt before. She couldn't quite explain, even to herself, how his touch had left her both confused and yet wanting more. She knew she cared for him very much – she'd known how deep this affection ran the moment she'd seen him return safely – but she was starting to think those feelings, those variations of care and affection, were starting to blossom into something more.

As she walked, the word she was literally terrified of ran through her brain like it was a compilation show of the same clips on fast forward. She didn't want to admit it, not to herself and certainly not to Charlie, because she was scared. Scared of both the overwhelming sense of rejection she'd inevitably face – Charlie didn't particularly strike her as the kind of guy who'd take the words 'I love you' with complete acceptation – and of having her guard completely dropped, all for a man who she still wasn't sure she could completely trust.

Whether or not she could fully comprehend the way she felt about him, the feelings lingered there all the same, gnawing into and under skin like a miniature beast which she knew, sooner or later, she'd have to face.

/./././

They'd been walking for about half an hour or so, trapped in the shadows by an array of forestry which, if anything, made them more hot and sweaty. Each step they took felt like a mile, and the odd insect made its way onto Charlie's skin, which he immediately slapped away, inwardly convinced his irrational fear of bees extended to other insects as well.

A loud movement in the bushes caused them to freeze in alarm, and for Charlie to wrap a protective arm around his small family. The movement even managed to catch Ben off guard, and they all seemed to freeze with anticipation, two of the four people thinking, _haven't we been through enough?_

It was just Locke, as it turned out. He walked casually through the bushes like it was his home, which was probably what he'd assumed the island was at this point. He narrowed his eyes in surprise at the strange group.

"What are you all doing here?" he enquired, extending his curious gaze to Charlie and Claire.

"I'm taking them to the barracks," Ben said, his eyes wide with surprise. "What are _you_ doing here John?"

"I came to warn you," Locke said, his eyes still following Charlie and Claire with a hint of regret in them.

"Warn me about what?" Ben seemed wary, as did they all.

Nobody was prepared for what happened next. A series of gunshots and explosions cut the air. Just through the bushes they could see the Dharma barracks, each house sporting mile high flames. Gun shots fired at the windows and they could all hear the glass breaking. In the faint distance, they could hear the sound of men yelling, which lead them to deduce this wasn't a random attack, nor an accident.

Aaron, surprisingly, remained silent throughout this. Claire cradled him close to her, the terror bubbling up inside her so much that she was surprised _she_ wasn't crying. Charlie's face, however, helped her relax. He stroked her back reassuringly and whispered words of comfort and reassurance, even though he seemed to wear a faint expression of horror and terror himself.

She was strangely proud to notice that he was becoming a lot like Jack. This event was shocking but he barely flinched, even as the flames became higher and higher and the gunshots became louder and louder. He also seemed to wear an expression of determination, though the horror and fear still mingled with it like an unwanted guest at a party.

"Are you alright?" he whispered, noticing how pale she'd become. "God, I'm sorry…"

"For what? You didn't know this would happen," she whispered back, her voice shaking slightly out of fear.

"You think _he_ knew about this?" Charlie nodded towards Ben.

Claire thought about it carefully. "No. Look at him; he's just as surprised as we were."

"Surprised, yes, but not shocked," Charlie noted grimly. "He knew an attack was coming, just not where or when."

"Yes, I did," Ben said softly, overhearing them. "This is the work of Charles Widmore. I should've known he would've tried something tacky and unsubtle."

He spoke as if they were talking about a party or some sort of décor, rather than a cowardly assault on a deserted set of houses.

"You knew…?" Claire couldn't find it in herself to keep the anger reigned in.

"I didn't know he'd strike here," Ben hissed. "Now be quiet! His men are obviously still around here. What they've just done was a cowardly attempt to lure me out; obviously under the impression I was in one of those houses."

Claire closed her eyes, already regretting following him. He wasn't to be trusted and what they'd just witnessed, or rather _heard_, was living proof that Ben Linus was a dangerous man – so dangerous that a man who lived far away had actually hired people to lure him out.

Judging by Charlie's heavy sigh, he felt the same. She felt relieved she wasn't the only one who felt that way.

"What do we do?" Locke asked, after most of the attack had subsided.

"Can I just say something?" Charlie rose to his feet, glaring from Locke to Ben. "When it comes to stuff like…well, _this_, me and Claire refuse to get involved. We don't want to get Aaron stuck in the middle of a war you've obviously created. So, whatever you're going to do, leave us out of it. Please."

The added _please_ at the end was a touch he hadn't planned to add, but he was just _sick_ of all these near death experiences. The moment Desmond had left had been a turning point for him; the message, _you're on your own,_ had seemed to silently pass between them. Charlie was terrified he might not get his happily ever after with Claire for very long, but he knew he had to stop acting like a victim and just enjoy the moments he _did _have with her. That was the key.

Claire was touched at Charlie's mini speech. It was short, sweet and straight to the point. He'd accentuated what they'd discussed which was, simply, to stay out of anything which was risky and/or dangerous. They'd had enough danger to last them a lifetime.

"What do you two plan to do then?" Locke was the first to speak. "It's dangerous to wander about the jungle, especially with a baby."

"Well, _John_, what do you suggest?" Charlie demanded. "Seeing how the barracks just _blew_ _up_, I'd say there's not a lot else we can do."

Ben and Locke exchanged a look, a fact which infuriated Charlie endlessly. The two of them seemed to connect on a level he couldn't understand, and he could understand at last why Jack had been extremely wary of Locke from the get go.

"I'm going to the Orchid," Ben finally said. "If Widmore's men _are_ here, then I need to stop Widmore from getting here himself. John, if you still want the answers to your questions, I suggest you come with me."

Locke still stared at Charlie and Claire, concern for them evident in his eyes. However, Charlie's words rung in his ears and he knew his part in their story, whatever minor role he'd played, was over. They were on their own now, figuratively speaking of course.

"Fine," he eventually answered. "Claire…Charlie…What will you do?"

"I don't know," Charlie confessed, hating that this man could make him feel redundant just with a simple question. "We'll be fine, though. I'll look after her, John."

A smile finally emerged on Locke's face.

"That has always been true," he replied. "If you need anything, I'll be around. Ok?"

"Thanks, Locke," Claire piped up, although she couldn't deny she still felt uncomfortable in his presence, knowing what he'd done.

With a last skittish smile in the pair's direction, Charlie steered Claire and Aaron around and they started walking back in the direction of the beach. They both let a sigh of relief escape their lips, neither of them wanting to spend more than a minute in the company of those two men.

"What do we do now?" Claire voiced what they were both thinking.

"We go back to the beach," Charlie said slowly, trying to work it all out in his head. "We'll gather what we need – only what we _need_ – and then try to work out our next move from there."

"Ok." Claire smiled. "Aaron needs feeding anyway. I'm surprised he's not made a fuss up until now."

Charlie smiled at her but didn't respond. He was frantic with worry, wondering what the hell they were going to do. They couldn't camp out in the jungle forever – not only was it unwise, it was unlikely to work. Why the hell had he not come up with a plan B? Jack and Sayid would've done. This whole leader business frankly was already going to pot. He was glad he'd not stepped up for the role in the first place otherwise they would all have been eaten in the first week!

They soon reached the beach again, both of them lost in their own thoughts. The one common link between their thoughts was that this was going to be a hell of a lot harder than they'd originally thought.

Claire immediately headed towards her tent, presumably to gather up what little food she'd stored in her rucksack. Charlie, meanwhile, walked alongside each tent solemnly, feeling like all his friends were dead, not merely off the island. He felt choked up seeing Jack's tent unoccupied, and just as sad seeing Sawyer's vacant premises. It was the first place he headed, however, knowing the conman would more than likely have stored up more than he bragged about.

Sure enough, there were various food items, books and a couple of medical items which would come in handy. Unlike the last time he'd raided Sawyer's stash, he actually felt _guilty_, as if the guy was dead or something. _It's not like the man's coming back,_ he told himself.

So, why did he feel like that wasn't true?

He glanced over at Claire, who was feeding Aaron and wearing a small smile only mothers will ever know about. He felt strangely proud that this wonderful person was with him but he realised the challenges in the real world were just the same as they were back home. They still had to find a home, they still had to find ways of finding food, water etc. But he daren't tell her that. She believed in him one hundred percent that he could get them through this.

He didn't want her to think for one moment he couldn't – he was terrified if she did, she'd leave him.

Once he'd gathered up the bare essentials, he also rummaged through Jack's tent for medicine more than anything else before retreating back into the sun, which bore on his back like a bag of heavy rocks.

"You ready?" he asked, approaching Claire who, he was relieved to see, had finished feeding Aaron.

"Sure," she said, accepting his hand as he helped them both up. "Where are we going?"

"The caves," he said slowly. "It's the only place I can think of to go. It's shady and cool and there's a fresh supply of water there. Apart from food, we'll never go wanting."

She laughed softly.

"What?" he asked, slightly confused.

"Remember when all you had to do was give me imaginary peanut butter and I'd go anywhere with you?" she replied gently. "Seems like a long time ago, doesn't it?"

His eyes widened as he remembered that day.

"Yeah, it does," he agreed. "I think I can rustle up another jar if you're hungry?"

"You're sweet," she said simply. "I think I'm fine, thank you."

For a moment, it seemed like they'd gone back in time to the days when nothing else had mattered but surviving. They hadn't crossed paths much in the early days, but when they had it was sweet. She'd been shy, heavily pregnant and looking for a friend and he'd been the lost, slightly messed up junkie in need of a reason to live.

Now, their firm friendship teetered on becoming something much more. They'd shared three kisses and had shared moments which, if they'd been back home, would've raised eyebrows and resulted in their friends nudging each other with secret delight and the giggles of conspirers. The trouble was neither of them would admit it, for fear of ruining something which rested on the edge of a knife.

"You're very thoughtful today," Claire noted. "Is anyone home? I feel like you're far away."

She passed him Aaron, who seemed particularly delighted to see Charlie. The little infant, as he was raised in the air, touched Charlie's face with his hands, as if determining he was really there. The infant then proceeded to gaze at the man who was holding him with such love and adoration that it made Charlie swell with paternal pride, even though a part of him realised that sort of pride would never belong to him.

"Yeah, sorry," he answered, gently rocking Aaron in his arms. "I guess I'm just worried about us. I don't know how Jack did this for forty of us. I can barely do it for three."

"Do what?"

"Take care of people," Charlie mumbled. "I've screwed up with you so many times, I…"

"As I recall, it was only the once," she said gently. "And it wasn't screwing up, Charlie. You made a mistake. You're only human. I know I've done things I wish I could take back. But that's just life. It doesn't come with instructions, which is good because we get to mess it up or fix it up in our own specific way."

He stared at her with undisguised awe. It was very rare Claire said anything philosophical, but when she did she made it sound more sincere than anything ever recorded or written in history. Of course he may have been slightly biased about that.

They started to walk, both carrying rucksacks filled with stuff they'd acquired. Charlie took one last look around at what had been his home and then slowly walked away.

"As long as I'm with you, Charlie," Claire spoke up. "We'll be ok. We'll get through this together."

He smiled at the memory she'd inadvertently reminded him of and then they slowly disappeared into the jungle. The weight of his rucksack plus a baby made their progress slow but, as he pointed out to Claire, they had no need to rush anymore. Time, it seemed, was finally on their side.

He'd hatched an idea as well on the walk. It was a project he hoped he could keep a surprise, and he knew that he could steal a few hours of the day to do so and yet still maintain his role as protector for his small family.

They reached the caves with fifteen minutes, mostly because they walked fast. It surprised them both that their hearts seemed to deflate at the sight of such a familiar setting and yet not see Jack lurking around somewhere, or anyone else for that matter.

Claire walked forwards and sat down by the waterfall, cupping it into her hands and drinking it, sighing with relief as the cool liquid surged down her throat making her feel infinitely better. Charlie, nearby, dropped his rucksack and then they sat down, wondering whether this sense of uncertainty would ever leave.

Right now, they stood upon the edge of a precipice; take a wrong move, and all would be lost. Claire, once again, considered the reasons why'd she'd done this, why she'd chosen to stay. It wasn't for Aaron; otherwise she would've been safe on board the helicopter, never looking back. That broke her heart as a mother; that she'd done an insane thing for a man she barely knew and not for her son.

But then again, Aaron needed a daddy, someone he could turn to for those moments mothers can't help with, and she knew a mistake like this was easier to forgive in the long run than, say, removing the only father figure Aaron had ever known from his life.

As night began to fall, the air became noticeably cooler. Aaron had fallen asleep in Charlie's arms and, forsaking her own shelter for the night, Claire had managed to acquire various blankets and shirts and managed to make them into as comfortable a bed as possible. She then proceeded to lay the infant tenderly onto it, swaddling him in the layers as Locke had taught her.

She sat away and closely watched her son, loving the way his eyes seemed to twitch as he dreamed. She wouldn't trade this little beauty for the entire world, and she was so thankful fate had intervened at the last minute and made her realise she did want this beautiful baby boy.

She felt something being wrapped her and she realised Charlie had sacrificed his blanket for her. It briefly came to her that she should refuse, knowing he was too sacrificial for his own good, but she felt so tired. She felt her eyes drooping and couldn't stop yawning. She hadn't really slept very well over the last few days, mostly out of worry because she'd been convinced she was going to lose someone she loved. That theory had nearly been proven right, but thankfully fate had intervened with other parts of her life.

"You can go sleep," Charlie told her, an amused grin on his face. "I'll keep watch. You look exhausted, love."

"I'm fine," Claire yawned. "I can…stay…up."

"Really?" Charlie raised an eyebrow.

"Er…no," she confessed, leaning against his shoulder, allowing her eyes to close and for sleep to overtake her.

He kissed her head and gently guided her body so that she was lying next to her son. As an added support for Aaron, he took out a cushion he'd stolen from somewhere (presumably from Sawyer's tent) and propped it under the infant.

It was lucky that he wasn't tired. So many worries crowded his brain that he found sleep was impossible. He knew they could only keep up this lifestyle for a few days, a week at most. The food they'd foraged could stretch out a bit longer if they rationed it carefully, and there was an endless supply of water so they had no worries about dehydration.

A quiet growl in the pit of his stomach informed him that the fact he'd skipped meals for a while had not gone unnoticed by his body. He delved into the rucksack and pulled out a box of Dharma crackers, munching on them very quietly so as not to disturb Claire and Aaron.

"Mmm…" Claire sighed in her sleep.

He stared at her, still trying to work out what she saw him that made her want to stay with him. Sometimes he thought about what would've happened if he'd died in the Looking Glass, whether she would've boarded the helicopter or whether she would've been stubborn and stayed.

"Charlie…Don't…Don't leave…"

He found it touching and moving that she spoke his name in her sleep. She seemed to visibly panic at whatever she was dreaming about. He turned around slightly, in order to watch her a bit more, having found his entertainment for the night.

"Don't…Stay, please. I love you."

His heart suddenly jolted into place, as though for most of his life it had been in the wrong location. He felt hot beads of sweat run down his face and he found breathing became a laborious task. _What did she just say?_ his brain demanded.

It could've been just dream talk – but that was unlikely. To dream about something, no matter how weird it was, you had to have been thinking about it at some point. He felt quite panicky, in all honesty. To hear the words 'I love you' come from her mouth was exhilarating, he wasn't denying that. It just took him off guard, because he wasn't sure where they were. Could you really say you loved someone after three months? Was it too soon?

Claire then resorted to muttering about Aaron and his name promptly dropped off her lips. He spent most of the night wondering whether she really meant it or not and, if she did, what it meant for them. He already knew how he felt about her, and you couldn't call it friendship, but he was nervous. Nervous because the last woman he'd cared for he'd ended up letting down quite spectacularly, even by his standards.

_We'll get through this together, _Claire had said.

It made him smile to think of them as a couple. In another world, in another life, he could easily imagine courting her, taking her out on romantic evenings every week, and then getting down on one knee and asking her in front of the entire world to marry him and become his wife.

The fact was they weren't in that world and the rules there didn't seem to apply here. All he wanted now was to keep them safe and in his life. As long as she was with him, he was happy.

**A/n: Thank you to my first ever reviewer, BookLover2244! Thank you so much! This chapter is dedicated to you! Hope this was good, because I am never sure if my writing is good. **

**Next chapter involves bright white light and Charlie putting his project into action, as well as Claire finally admitting her feelings to herself. **


	3. In Time Gone By

_Chapter 3 In Time Gone By _

Her eye stiffly opened – stiffly, because she was still reluctant to wake up. She hadn't realised just how tired she actually was. She reached out a feeble hand to wake up Aaron, and felt that familiar sense of panic when her hand just touched the air.

Claire sat up and felt herself figuratively froth at the mouth, temporarily forgetting that Charlie was still here with her. The experience with Rousseau – and, to a degree, with Charlie – had scarred her somewhat, meaning that every time Aaron was out of her sight, for whatever reason, her whole body clammed up. She wouldn't be able to breathe or think clearly until he was back in her arms.

Then a soft voice floated through the trees and she felt herself relax and unwind. A small smile even crossed her face, as the voice of the man she cared deeply about drifted through the trees, confirming that Aaron was with him.

"_Take good care of my baby,  
Now don't you ever make him cry  
Just let your love surround him,  
Paint a rainbow all around him  
Don't let him see your cloudy sky."_

She suddenly found that her smile was growing bigger and bigger by the minute. She felt a surge of pride for her family and felt like they could cope with anything life could throw at them. For the fiftieth time, she thanked the heavens, fate, or whatever it was that Charlie had returned home safely.

She cupped a handful of water, splashed her face and had a quick drink, before slowly walking over and crouching in the bushes so she could watch the show Charlie was inadvertently putting on for her. She waved away a few insects impatiently, and peered through the bushes.

Charlie held Aaron in his arms and was swinging him around gently, too lost in the moment to notice his small audience. He couldn't believe how much love he felt for this little boy, even though he knew, no matter how much Claire approved of it, he could never hold the claim he wanted to over him.

"Right, that's two baby songs down," he murmured to the infant. "Admittedly not the strongest ones in my repertoire, but I gotta work with what ya give me. Ok, so that's the song from _Dumbo_ and 'Take Good Care of my Baby' we've covered. Any other requests?"

From behind the bush, Claire giggled quietly.

Aaron gurgled noisily and touched Charlie's face again. They seemed to silently communicate that way, conveying messages Claire couldn't understand. Aaron was special, in more ways than one. He seemed to understand when Charlie wasn't there, in a way that infants his age shouldn't have known. When the two of them together, it was like she didn't exist. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but she did feel out of the loop sometimes, like they were sharing a secret she wasn't allowed to know about.

"I'm sorry," Charlie said in the same tones as a DJ would use. "I don't believe we have goo-goo ga-ga in our books. Please make another selection."

"_Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket,  
Never let it fade away.  
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket,  
Save it for a rainy day."_

He turned to stare at her; even in the morning she still looked radiant. Her bed hair – well, _cave_ hair he supposed he'd have to call it – never lessened her beauty. The morning glow of the jungle seemed to portray her as an angel, a description he was happy to stick with.

"You have a nice voice," he noted softly. "We should, you know, totally hook up and make an island band."

"Uh-huh," she replied, folding her arms. "That's one idea. Here's another – how 'bout you give me back my son?"

Charlie grinned sheepishly, making his way over to her slowly before handing her Aaron, who was surprisingly chirpy considering it was only just morning.

"You really need to stop spoiling me and letting me have lie-ins," she scolded Charlie, but only half-heartedly. "It's not good for me."

"I didn't sleep," he protested. "I didn't see the sense in waking you up, not when you've been through so much in the last 48 hours."

She smiled at him, touched by his concern. He really needed to stop worrying about her, she realised. She wasn't completely useless and she could take care of herself. But, if she was honest, she liked that he went above and beyond to take care of her and Aaron. It made her feel like a princess and, as you can imagine, on an island filled with dangerous smoke creatures and people intent on kidnapping children, that was a feeling she'd rarely felt.

"Well, this is the first day of the rest of our lives," she noted. "Feels strange, doesn't it?"

"I remember when I first brought you here," Charlie recalled with a grin. "You couldn't have looked more disgusted if you'd tried! I tried to make it homely for you but your look blatantly told me I was mad for taking you off the beach."

"I did miss it," Claire admitted. "But you helped me take my mind off of it. You were so sweet, always wanting to make sure I was comfortable. You were an absolute gentleman. Then and now."

He felt his cheeks flood with colour and warmth and turned away, overcome with affection for this strange but wonderful Australian. How he'd charmed her into choosing to stay with him, he'd never know. The memory of listening to her last night still remained in his mind and it never failed to make him smile. She might not have said it intentionally for him to hear, but the sincerity still remained within her words.

"I'm going to feed Aaron," she announced, blushing slightly as if it was an embarrassment and not a necessity.

"That's good, actually." He suddenly remembered 'the project' and decided it was time to start work on it. "I was thinking of going out and searching for some more fruit and stuff. Just so we don't have to do it in the future."

"Will you be ok on your own?" She sounded worried.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. It's just finding fruit and stuff. Where's the danger in that?"

She suddenly felt herself clam up again, but for a very different reason. This wasn't too dissimilar from a conversation they'd had a few days ago. Charlie had this annoyingly frustrating habit of playing down dangerous situations. Now she felt worried if he disappeared from her sight for more than a few seconds; she had no idea how she was going a few hours. He also had an annoying habit of joking his way out of answering serious questions.

"Hey."

His hands were under her chin, forcing her face up so that he could gaze into her eyes.

"I'll be fine, love. I promise. I will be coming back this time. Even if I did run into danger, you know I'll turn and run the other way. It's what we cowards are good at."

She chuckled weakly but still couldn't completely relax.

"It makes it so much worse Desmond not being here," she admitted. "As irritating as his death warnings used to be, they were helpful. Now, I feel like I could lose you any time. I don't know what I'd do without you, Charlie."

"You'd be fine," he answered after a while. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, Claire. And, should something happen to me, you'd go on and live for Aaron. If I'd died in that station, I wouldn't have wanted you to cling to my memory and forget to live."

Tentatively, he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her lips which, astonishingly enough lasted more than a few seconds. Her lips moved with his in a gentle movement and he felt exuberant. He rested his hand against her face, aware she had Aaron nestled in her Bjorn, and deepened the kiss, surprised when she allowed him to explore her mouth with his tongue.

Fireworks were going off in his head. This was more than what she usually allowed, and he felt as giddy as a schoolboy. This feeling subsided somewhat, as he realised all of the friends he could've bragged about this to were off the island. He was the one to break from the kiss, his mind still replaying it over and over.

He felt breathless, his guard completely dropped. He tried to piece together what had just happened but found himself unable to think as well as unable to breathe. If it weren't for the mischievous grin on her face, he would've thought she was completely unaware of the effect she had on him. When it came to their relationship, he was the one who usually was left giddy and speechless, partly because Claire was so much better at hiding her emotions when it suited her.

Aaron's impatient cry of attention drew them apart, and they smiled shyly, realising they could never have a moment's peace anymore. This was their life.

"Weren't you going off to get some fruit?" Claire asked after a brief moment.

"Was I?" Charlie frowned. "Hm…I was under the impression I was supposed to stay with you."

He leaned in for another kiss but she merely smirked and lightly pushed him away.

"Go," she commanded. "We'll be fine. Just…don't wander too far, 'kay?"

"No, ma'am." He smirked.

"I'm serious," she insisted. "Just be careful, Charlie. Those men might still be around and if you got hurt…"

"I made a promise to stay with you," he said gently. "I know I'm not exactly good with promises but I won't leave you. I won't be far."

She gave him a small smile and waved him goodbye as he started to walk away. He felt so…guilty, like he'd committed a felon or something. What he was doing was for her but even still if anything happened to her…

The thick jungle meant the sweat literally poured down his face. Charlie wondered how people could've found their way about such a maze of shrubbery so quickly. People like Locke roamed the jungle like it was their backyard. He supposed he and Claire would soon find their way about and, once again, that somewhat daunting image of him and Claire as near enough cave people flickered in his mind.

He approached his destination fairly quickly, and then humbly came to a stop. Seeing the unfinished frame of the church he and Eko had started building was like being in a graveyard. He half expected to see the priest lumbering out of the jungle, carrying an armful of wood and muttering the odd instruction in his direction.

Eko's death had affected him in a way no one else's had. He had spent quite a fair bit of time with the priest, looking up to him and respecting him. It wasn't just that he was religious, although that had automatically caught his attention, but it was the fact that he had a lot of faith in whatever he did. When he'd been told he'd died, Charlie had felt something die inside him, which he only realised afterwards had been faith in himself. He'd felt shaken up and not even Claire's faith in him had been able to make him feel better, at least not for a day or two.

Charlie smiled as he looked around the site where the church had been built. It seemed to say something about Eko's craftsmanship that neither time nor nature had seemed to affect it.

He approached it warily, feeling like he was intruding just by being here. He'd been bewildered and injured by Eko's decision to stop building it, only turning it around on himself because he knew he'd needed something to reignite his faith, and the church had seemed to be the way to go in achieving that. His faith had been put under all kinds of pressure, eventually succumbing to the inevitability of disappearing when everyone had regarded him in disgust for taking Aaron away from his frightened mother, and building the church had achieved the double purpose of bring back a little faith in his bones and avoiding everyone who'd lost their faith in him.

There was something beautiful and refreshing about the morning. It could've been the fact that a new day meant new prospects, or the fresh sea breeze you never got anywhere else, or it could've just been the fact he was facing the first day of the rest of his life with Claire and Aaron.

Like everything else, however, the good was tinged with the not so good. Charlie, although he would never show it in front of Claire, was literally bubbling in self-loathing and pain for the lie Jack had to tell Liam. Liam wouldn't handle it well – he never handled death well. Charlie still remembered Liam's attempt at handling their mother's death. It'd been horrible. He'd disappeared for three days, after which he'd returned home completely stoned and in tears.

How he'd handle the supposed 'death' of his brother was not something Charlie wished to think about.

There was something rather haunting about seeing that pile of chopped wood just outside the frame of the church. The fact it had been abandoned there, not even put to use by the other survivors, made Charlie realise he'd made the right choice in staying with Claire. Hell, the heroes welcome he'd received when he'd got back just proved the fact he was far better off staying with the one person who saw all his faults as well as his virtues than going home and being hailed like a hero for five minutes before reality kicked in and he was back to being ignored again.

There was a disturbing vibrating noise echoing in the distance which he couldn't quite work out. It was irritating, but not intolerable. It became louder and louder and that's when he noticed the sky was become brighter and brighter.

The whole earth started to shake slightly and he squinted as the sky slowly became less blue and became whiter and whiter. This, even by the island's standards, was surely not normal.

Charlie stumbled backwards, falling over the wood he'd wandered over. He winced as he heard his ankle crack loudly and then bit his lip as the pain overwhelmed him, causing a drop of blood to run down his chin. _Typical,_ he thought sourly. _I've not been in charge for twenty four hours and I've already injured myself._

The light became increasingly blinding and he covered his eyes in a feeble effort to protect himself, wondering if there was an ounce of normality left in this world…

/././././

Even though she was confident of his safe return, Claire still fretted and worried. Every minute, every hour, he was gone was like someone was twisting a knife into her heart, slowly inching the blade deeper and deeper each hour he remained absent. It was foolish to let herself feel that way, but she felt it all the same.

Prudency had never been a quality of hers, after all.

"Charlie will be home soon," she reassured a restless Aaron. "He'll be fine."

But who was she really trying to convince here, him or herself?

She tried a few things to keep herself occupied, singing softly to Aaron, telling him stories he wouldn't really appreciate at this age and even walking about but nothing worked. Aaron, bless him, put up with her fretting and silent panic, gurgling nonsense at her to try and keep her mind engaged on him. It was the way it should've been had they been in a normal environment. Here she frequently found her thoughts ranged from concern for Aaron to concern from Charlie. They changed as quickly as traffic lights.

She hummed _Catch a Falling Star_ underneath her breath and gently rocked Aaron side to side, pressing her lips against his skin, relishing the contact. Nobody ever marched into parenthood completely prepared but, for her, the experienced had been earth shattering. She'd not been prepared at all. In fact, she'd been terrified and had never read a single pregnancy related book in her life, convinced she'd never have to do anything beyond putting up with a bump. But if nine months of morning sickness, aches, pains and strange cravings had taught her anything it was to expect the unexpected.

Now she did things with Aaron which came so naturally to her that it surprised her. He was her first priority and she loved him like she'd planned him all along. The first instance when she realised how much she loved him was when Rousseau had taken him from her arms. It gave true meaning to the phrase, _you don't know what you've got until it's gone._

A loud droning noise suddenly met her ears. Curious, she glanced around the caves, becoming slightly wary in case Locke or Ben appeared in front of her. Unlike Charlie, she lacked the charisma to deal with them efficiently and she clutched Aaron to her chest, terrified that some event would cause them to separate.

A bright light pierced the sky above her. It wasn't enough to penetrate through the trees but she became aware of it by looking up. It was extraordinarily white for light, and it only seemed to intensify as time went by. She would've felt scared, if only an ounce of common sense had hovered in her body. Instead, she felt curious, wondering if Ben had done something to trigger this off.

The droning became louder. Aaron started wailing then, the noise piercing his little eardrums.

"Ssh," she begged. "It's alright, sweetie. Mummy's here."

As if that made a damn bit of difference.

Then, just like that, the light and the noise were gone. She couldn't fathom what had just happened. She bit her lip out of anxiety, wondering briefly where Charlie was and whether he could fathom had happened.

Claire knew she was anxious when the pacing began. Up and down she marched, fuelled with anxiety, confusion and apprehension. Her eyes glanced around for any sign of Charlie returning but there was nothing.

_He couldn't have gone that far…could he?_ Claire pondered, starting to really worry now.

Ten achingly long minutes passed before she heard the sound of someone huffing and groaning into view. She sighed with relief, turning towards the source of the sound. Charlie hobbled into view, blood evident on his cheek, thankfully nothing more than a mere patch, the size of a spot maybe.

"Charlie!" she exclaimed. "Did you…?"

"Yeah," he huffed, collapsing on the ground and rubbing at his ankle almost angrily. "Yeah, I saw the freaky white light. Damn it!"

"What happened?" she asked, kneeling down and glancing at his ankle with concern.

"Snapped my ankle," Charlie grumbled, pain evident in his eyes.

"Can I help?" she offered timidly.

"Fetch me some aspirin."

"How will that…?"

"My head hurts." He sighed. "That loud droning noise didn't exactly make for pleasant listening. And that's coming from a guy who's tone deaf."

"You're not…"

"Claire, this isn't a time to debate whether or not I'm tone deaf."

She nodded, abashed. "What was that?"

"My best guess? I reckon that creepy Other guy did something."

He knocked back a couple of aspirins and winced as the pain from his ankle pulled him from his thoughts. He was inexplicably relieved that Claire and Aaron were fine, but again the frustration of not knowing gnawed at him.

"You'll have to keep off this for a couple of days," Claire advised, lightly touching his ankle.

"Bloody marvellous," he complained. "This is _just_ what I need."

"Stop complaining," she lightly scolded. "Could be worse."

He made a non-committal noise in response, lowering his head to gaze mournfully at his ankle. It irritated him to be rendered useless like this she could see but, honestly, why were men such babies when a little thing happened to ruin their day?

"Are you two ok?" he eventually asked.

"We're fine," Claire assured him. "Aaron cried earlier, but I guess he's not as attuned to this insanity as we are."

He chuckled weakly.

She massaged his ankle gently, trying to pretend to herself that the little part of her which cried with pain when he did didn't exist. She'd had a brief moment in her life when she'd considered nursing as a profession. She'd taken a course, but had bottled out when she'd seen some of the horrific images on some of the study cases they'd given out in the lectures and lessons.

"I think there are some painkillers somewhere," she mused. "Here, hold Aaron will you?"

She placed Aaron in Charlie's arms, who suddenly seemed to pipe down, though the tears were still evident on his face. She rummaged through her rucksack carefully, managing to locate a small tub of painkillers with triumph.

"When did you find these?" Charlie wondered aloud. "Jack would've killed for some of them."

"He just didn't know where to look," she said smugly. "I found them in a small medical bag in what'd used to be Nikki's tent. She'd been holding out on us all, not that I'm surprised."

"You're such a little gossip," he teased her. "Hey, you never did tell me what you found in Jack's tent the other week which made you have a funny turn."

"Am I really that cryptic about it? Can you not figure it out?" she asked wryly. "Let's just say Nikki and Paulo were in there and..." She paused, unable to get the words out but she could already see Charlie had figured out the rest of the sentence.

"Oh." He promptly grinned. "Nice…"

"Idiot," Claire muttered.

"Nikki wasn't exactly unattractive," Charlie said defensively. "I was just complimenting Paulo on scoring. Even though they're both dead."

"She's not _unattractive?_ What are you saying?"

"I knew that would provoke a reaction out of you," he teased.

She scowled at the ground, trying not to get infuriated with him. She was used to his teasing remarks and odd remarks at her expense, but the fact he seemed to know she was concealing her feelings for him – to an extent, anyway – was damn right spooky. It was like he'd read her mind or something.

"How's your ankle?" she asked quietly, noting he'd knocked down a painkiller.

"Still canes," he said, frowning. "Now…putting aside your feelings and my ankle…what the bloody hell was that light all about?"

"You tell me."

"Wish I could, love," he drawled, his eyes tightening marginally. "This, even by our standards, is insane."

"Mm…"

Charlie, rather absentmindedly, bounced Aaron on his knee, looking surprised when a giggle escaped his lips.

"Did he just laugh?" Claire demanded. "That was a full on laugh wasn't it?"

"Yeah…"

They stared at the infant in wonder, both sets of eyes filling with emotion and love. Their gaze turned to each other and they grinned. It was lovely, not to mention astounding, when serious moments were interspersed with little wonders such as Aaron's first laugh. There had been times when a titter had escaped his lips, but it'd never been a full on giggle like this.

"Wow," Charlie breathed.

Claire bit her lip, overcome with emotion. It wasn't just hearing her son giggle, although that in itself had her stomach doing back flips – it was seeing Charlie looking so proud, playing the role Thomas had been too cowardly to play. She loved seeing him interact with her son and she loved seeing him smile…

Oh dear Lord…she _loved_ him.

How had that happened? When had this…love snuck along and swept her off of her feet? Why had she denied herself of acknowledging it, when it brought her such warmth and peace inside her?

"You must feel so…" Charlie stopped when he saw her face.

She looked like she wanted to cry. Her face was scrunched up and her eyes were spilling over with tears. He felt uncertain, uncertain as to whether these were happy tears or sad tears; he'd not been with her long enough to tell the difference.

"Are you ok?" he asked, his voice trembling. "Claire?"

"Yeah," she sniffed. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just…he's never laughed like that for _me._ Is it stupid to feel jealous even though I heard it at the same time as you?"

"No," he said calmly. "It's not stupid, Claire. God, you're his _mother._ I really shouldn't be interfering…"

Now it was her turn to be reassuring.

"You're a part of his life too, Charlie," she reminded him. "Sometimes you do make me feel small because you know stuff I don't, but you're as good as Aaron's father. The real one didn't care enough to stick around but you did. I'll always appreciate that, Charlie."

He grinned at her and threw a clumsy arm around her shoulder. It wasn't often she gave such inspiring monologues, but when she did it always had a funny way of making him shiver with delight.

"Do we do nothing?" Claire suddenly changed the subject. "I have a really bad feeling whatever's happened, it's going to change things."

Charlie frowned again, digesting that.

"Don't be so melodramatic," was his final response, although his eyes tightened again. "For all we know that could just be another hatch imploding again."

"Hardly," she muttered.

"Does it matter?" Charlie suddenly asked. "We mutually agreed to stay away from all this insanity."

"Doesn't stop the insanity finding us," Claire pointed out. "We did choose to stick around on an island which is made up of craziness."

"True."

They stared around them, both of them unnerved by the silence which, only moments ago, had comforted them. They tried so hard to be like Rose and Bernard and retire from the madness and drama the island brought, but sometimes that wasn't possible. How could you escape something which was all around you?

"What now?" Claire asked numbly.

"We just…forget it. We don't know if that even _was_ anything. We could be overreacting."

"So…we don't do anything?"

"Right."

Claire pretended she didn't see the sheer terror in his eyes, because she knew he'd never admit to it. He was just like Jack in the sense he'd never admit he was afraid. She understood he wanted to protect her and Aaron and yet be able to hold his own ground, like a leader, but it all seemed to be collapsing around him. Male pride seemed to consistently clash with the desire to protect his family, a battle she'd never be able to understand. All she did understand was that he was faintly proud of the fact that he wouldn't be patronised anymore, that he could be a leader like Jack even it was only for two people.

She took Aaron gently off of Charlie and held him close to her heart, needing to feel him inside her arms. The little boy curled against her chest and she felt a smile cross her face. How she'd ever contemplated giving him away was beyond her, although at the time she'd been convinced she'd be a terrible mother and that giving him away was the best option for him to have a happy life.

"So…what now?" Charlie echoed her earlier question.

"I dunno." She shrugged. "I don't think we can really do anything. We're not the sort of people who go looking for danger. You said it yourself we're trying to avoid danger."

He stared down at his DS ring, suddenly filling himself with thoughts about what would've happened had he not survived the Looking Glass mission. He wondered if dying would've been more or less painful than walking away from Claire and Aaron. This succession of depressing thoughts suddenly made his ankle hurt less.

"Any luck with the food hunting? I notice you've returned without your rucksack," Claire teased.

"Damn it!" Charlie growled. "I'll go back and get it."

"But your ankle…" Claire protested.

"I'll limp there and back. I won't be a moment," he promised, rising to his feet.

"You're right – you'll be _several_." She scowled at his stubbornness. "Can I at least come with you?"

"Stay," he commanded. "I will be but a moment."

"Hmph." She turned away, momentarily displeased with him.

He scowled at her back. She could be so overprotective sometimes; it could've driven a man crazy. Then, he figured she was just worried about him and his frown melted into a soft smile.

"I'll be fine, Claire. See you in five minutes."

"It took you ten just to get down there….!" She whirled around but he was gone. She sighed heavily and wondered whether this feeling of constant worry would ever subside inside her.

Aaron started to fuss again and so she turned her attention to him.

She was cuddling him and playing with his little toes when the second, somewhat louder and more draining burst of light flickered across the sky. It showered down on them both like thunder and, this time, it felt more invasive. The sound was louder and more intense. It felt like it was in her head not just outside of it.

She buckled down and tried to cover her ears and Aaron's at the same time. It, naturally, failed, so she resigned herself to keeping his ears covered whilst hers took the full blow of the light.

_So much for avoiding danger,_ she inwardly thought, scowling to herself. _Looks like danger's found us again – and this time it's personal._

**A/n: Yay, another chapter up! Thanks to the people who've faved and alerted this story. Really means a lot to me that you like it enough to do that. Next chapter introduces the time skipping and how Charlie and Claire deal with it, plus intruding on a moment that brings them closer together. **


	4. So Close Together

_Chapter 4: So Close Together _

Charlie _knew_ it was a bad idea to hobble down to the beach the moment he'd left Claire's sight. When would he learn that she was _always_ right? He could feel his ankle swelling and it bloody caned. The jungle terrain wasn't exactly smooth either, and he found himself literally jumping over tree roots and gently kicking obstacles out of his path with his good foot. It was the slowest journey anyone had ever made ever.

That's when the second, inarguably more violent, flash of light shattered the sky. A loud vibrating noise made the entire jungle shake – quite literally – but that wasn't what caused Charlie to fall to his knees, completely shaken and frightened, as he clutched his ears and bent forwards. It was the sheer intensity of the light which did it. It felt so intrusive, like it was scanning into your brain or something.

It went on for a few seconds, each second dragged out like it was enduring torture. Again, he cursed his decision to leave Claire in the caves. He could've been with her, protecting her, and yet again he'd failed. All because of a _stupid_ rucksack! He could feel beads of sweat run down his face, mostly due to the sheer humidity of the jungle, and he'd never felt so uncomfortable in his entire life, mostly because his ankle was twisted behind his body, further enhancing the pain. His knees were grinding into the ground and his head felt like it was splitting in two.

Then, just like that, it was over.

Cautiously, Charlie rose to his feet and stared around, half expecting the jungle to have some physical sign that something beyond the normal had taken place. All of a sudden, his ankle seemed like an insignificant problem.

He wasn't that far to the site where he'd left his rucksack, and whilst he was here he might as well go the whole hog and retrieve it. He felt uneasy, however, and every single one of his hairs was standing up on end. He had a bad feeling that Claire was right yet again, in the sense that their quest for a normal life – or as close as they could get living on a crazy ass island – was going to be much more difficult to achieve than they'd first thought.

Charlie, all the while glancing around, started the laborious task of hobbling back to the frame of the church. It was difficult, and all the while he fretted and worried about Claire and Aaron. Why did he have to be so _stubborn_ not to listen to her? Why did he always have to prove he was right?

After about five minutes of painful hobbling, he felt his shoes step from the hard terrain onto soft sand and he instantly relaxed, silently vowing to himself that he was just going to grab it and go and then be back by Claire's side within ten minutes, after which he would do a bit of grovelling, get back into her good books, and then they would say no more about it.

He turned his head to search for his rucksack…and then froze with disbelief.

It wasn't there. Neither the church's frame nor the rucksack was there, and yet he was sure he'd followed the same path he'd taken earlier. He walked around – well, limped – and spotted familiar landmarks which assured him he was here. Despite the fact the beach pretty much looked the same all the way down it, he recognized certain areas from his memories and he was pretty sure the camp, whatever was left of it, should've been in sight.

It wasn't.

"What's going on?" he yelled, moving his foot to kick at the sand in anger, then remembered halfway through he was using his bad ankle, and the movement to prevent any further damaged being done resulted in him falling flat on his butt.

That was when, without realising it, he pulled a Sawyer.

"Son of a _bitch!_"

It really, really _hurt._ Now, not only did his ankle hurt, but he had a sore arse as well. Could this day get any worse? Actually, around here, that was like tempting fate. After everything – the flashes, the near death experiences, the overwhelming feeling that he wasn't going to see Claire again – this should've been like a walk in the park.

He stared at the empty beach and felt more confused than ever. Again, he wished Jack or Sayid were here, just because he had no clue what to do. What was there to do in this situation, erase time? The damage, if any had been done, was done and his main priority now was to find Claire and Aaron and protect them from any further flashes.

/././././

When the light had withdrawn from the sky, Claire's first priority was to settle a wailing Aaron. Humming a few verses of _Catch a Falling Star_ and gently rocking him side to side did the trick, but did nothing to make her worry for Charlie subside. It worried her how much she worried for him, as if that was a sign that she was obsessed with him.

She began to speculate what had caused that sudden burst of intense light. Nothing sprang to mind; at least nothing crazy enough which could explain it. She wondered if Charlie had been right with his theory that another hatch had imploded. It would've seemed plausible if that second, more intense, flash hadn't come along. At least Charlie hadn't been directly near the source this time, she silently thought. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if Desmond had been here whether or not Charlie's next 'death' would've been as a result of that light.

That, of course, made her worry even more.

Ten excruciatingly long minutes passed before she heard his voice through the trees. She picked up Aaron and ran to greet him, throwing the one free arm she had around his neck and kissing his cheek with relief.

"Well," he teased when she'd released him. "If you're going to react this way every time I come back, maybe I should go away more often."

"I'm just relieved you're safe," Claire told him honestly. "Did you see -?"

"Yes." He nodded. "What was _that_ about?"

"I have no idea," she replied, passing him Aaron as she noticed his tiny hands were scrabbling in Charlie's direction. "Do you have any ideas?"

"A few," he confessed, avoiding her eye. "This is going to sound crazy, but it's true. I went down to the beach to get my rucksack, right? Well, I followed the same path I did last time and both my rucksack and whatever was left of the church was _gone._ It was like it'd never existed."

"Do you think the light had something to do with it?" she asked anxiously, thankfully believing him first time.

"Yes, but that's not the disturbing part," he said slowly. "The camp was gone. It was like it'd never been there, like _we'd_ never been there."

She could see he looked genuinely baffled by this and so, to ease his pain, she guided him towards the cluster of rocks which had made up a seating area, forced him to sit down with Aaron, and proceeded to massage his shoulders.

"That feels nice," he sighed. "Thanks, Claire."

"No problem." She smiled. "You need another haircut."

She ran her fingers through his hair and felt him stiffen with surprise. She'd always loved his hair, mostly because she could run her fingers through it and it was always soft to the touch, almost fluffy in fact.

"You like cutting my hair," Charlie noted warily, only because she'd never quite touched him like this without getting extremely flustered. "Were you a hairdresser or something?"

She hesitated for a brief moment, remembering there was only so much Charlie knew about her. She hated talking about the past, as Charlie well knew, but she was beginning to realise that it was going to come out sooner or later.

"I had a five dollar an hour job at a place called Fish 'n' Fry," she confessed. "I tried a couple of college courses in nursing once. Wasn't for me."

"Wouldn't have pegged you as a fish fryer," he teased.

"What _would_ you have pegged me as?" she fired back, secretly curious to discover what Charlie saw her working as.

"I dunno," he replied honestly, pulling faces at Aaron. "Usually I can tell with people but you…you're a bit of a wild card."

She pulled a face. "Is that a good thing?"

"Yeah," he breathed, gazing up at her with such intensity it made her shiver. "It means you're a mystery. I like working out mysteries. You're essentially a personified Cluedo."

She burst out laughing. "What the hell is _that?_"

"You've never heard of Cluedo?" he demanded. "What _planet_ are you from, woman?"

She put her hands on her hips and glared down at him, attempting to be fierce and disapproving for once. But seeing his face curl up into an expression of mock fear made that all disappear. She could never stay mad at him – pretend or otherwise – for very long.

Charlie then proceeded to launch into an explanation as to what _Cluedo_ was, and she found herself only half listening. She was riveted by the fact his eyes lit up as he talked about something from his home life. Every time he revealed a fact about himself, inadvertently or otherwise, she felt like she was building up a picture of what he was like. She was gradually getting to know him, day by day. She just wished she could talk to him about her pathetic excuse of a life pre-island but she was afraid if she did he would leave her. It was an irrational fear, she realised, but she'd done such atrocities during her rebellious years that she feared he'd stop seeing her as she was now and start seeing her as someone who could've been capable of putting her own mother into a coma.

Charlie was still hammering on about games from his childhood when she eventually tuned back in. She half smiled, momentarily forgetting about that dark memory she tried so hard not to engulf herself in. Charlie was worse than a girl sometimes when it came to talking but, if it distracted her from the reality they were living in, she could live with it.

"You ok?" he eventually asked, sensing she wasn't entirely happy.

"I'm fine," she replied quickly. "Just…worried."

"About what?"

She gave him a look. "You've just told me the camp has completely disappeared, along with the rucksack you had which was filled with food, medicinal supplies and God knows what else. Why wouldn't I be worried?"

"It could just be a fluke," he offered, somewhat lamely. "I have a bad ankle; maybe I should've explored a bit more…"

"That light wasn't just there for show," she said, half to herself. "I think the camp's disappearance has something to do with it. The two must be interlinked."

"Since when did you become Sherlock Holmes?" Charlie snorted.

"Who?"

"As if you don't know who Sherlock Holmes is!" Charlie cried, proceeding to launch into another lengthy explanation as to who Sherlock Holmes was.

Claire rolled her eyes.

"Must you do this every time _you_ bring up someone or something _I_ don't know?" she asked, her lips twitching as though they wanted to pull into a smile.

He smirked back and then gestured for her to sit down next to him. Once she had obeyed, he picked up Aaron and sat him across both of their laps which, for some reason, the infant seemed to love. Having the two people he loved the most in view was like Christmas for him, despite the fact he didn't know what it was.

"We'll be fine," Charlie murmured softly. "There's fruit around and we'll always have a plentiful supply of water."

She studied his face carefully for any trace of a lie. It seemed like he was sincere so, for the moment, she let it go. She was the one who'd made this decision in the first place, so really she had no right to complain or worry.

She leaned against his shoulder and slipped her hand in his, smiling down at Aaron who seemed remarkably happy for an infant who was, for all intents and purposes, a cave baby. That little nickname, however, made her think of Sawyer which, in turn, made her think about Kate. She hoped they'd all arrived safely and were back at home where they belonged.

/././././

They'd rapidly become used to the light now. It often appeared when they were least expecting it and, like an emergency procedure, Claire would cover Aaron's ears and pull him to her chest whilst Charlie did a similar thing with her, meaning he took the full brunt of it all. She'd protested when he'd first done it, feeling like he was being too self-sacrificial again, but she couldn't hold up a coherent argument when it had literally become too painful to speak, let alone do anything else. It stretched over the next day as well, and they were losing sleep out of fear it would happen again.

This had happened a few times before Charlie made the suggestion they go for a walk. She'd wondered what the logic behind it had been but, truthfully, she was getting sick of the sight of the caves. So when he'd asked her again, she'd grabbed his hand and allowed him to pull her along.

"Doesn't your ankle hurt?" she asked, noticing he was still limping.

"It's getting better," he insisted. "I just need to walk it off, that's all."

She wanted to protest further, but he could be just as stubborn as her when he wanted to be. He also had this ability to push away his pain to protect her, and she often had to gently remind him she could take care of herself. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy being treated as a lady, but it was unnecessary.

She gave him a frown of disapproval, but let the matter go. He was so much like a child at times, which often threw into question whether she could depend on a man who often answered a question with a joke and who never really seemed to be entirely honest with her. But she also realised he was incredibly sweet and charming, and he looked after her and Aaron with obvious adoration, so much so he was willing to _die_ to get them off the island. She would never find a man like him in the real world, which was another reason she'd decided to stay. She'd been terrified other people would've interfered and literally torn them apart.

A loud droning sound made them instantly look up. Claire immediately wrapped her hands around Aaron's little ears and ducked down, knowing that powerful vibrations in the air often knocked them down. Charlie's arms were immediately around her, and she felt her head being pulled into his chest. He was wearing his hoodie, the one he always withdrew into when he wanted some alone time, and she snuggled into it, already feeling safer.

This time they were prepared, although they could never quite get used to the sensation of having their worlds rocked - quite literally. Aaron started to cry again, and she tried to soothe him but it proved to be impossible.

When it'd gone, they were surprised – not to mention shocked – that it'd suddenly become dark, indicating it was night. When they'd been walking, however, it'd been midday, nowhere near to night. That was the second indication that these time flashes had something to do with time, although Charlie didn't want to freak Claire out. He'd guessed it before, only it wasn't something he'd wanted to ponder about, the idea of time travelling.

"What's going on?" Claire asked, sounding frightened. "Why is it night?"

"I don't know," he lied, making his voice sound heavy as if this was just as frustratingly confusing for him.

They decided it was probably best to turn around and head back towards the camp. That was the plan…at least until they heard a loud scream shatter the night.

"What are you doing?" Claire hissed, noticing Charlie had frozen on the spot.

"Someone's in trouble. We need to help," he replied. "Come on!"

He pulled her along, so that they were now half running, half walking. She'd heard the scream herself, noting it sounded vaguely familiar, but hadn't felt the same urge to run into danger and help, unlike Charlie. He was too sacrificial for his own good, she thought again.

She was kind of relieved he was taking her along though. She would've hated to have been left in the dark with Aaron, wondering if he would ever come back and hating him for leaving her yet _again._

Then suddenly he froze. She sidled up to him, peering around his body to see what he was staring at and then froze herself. Her eyes widened and her jaw fell wide open, because she physically couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Through the bushes, they could see Kate and another Claire kneeling on the ground, the sounds of heavy breathing and faint sobs filling the air. It felt like an out of body experience for Claire, as she stared at what she knew to be her own labour. She felt out of breath just re-watching it, and the sounds of pain coming from her mouth reminded her of just how intense it was. She saw Kate's look of joy as Aaron came into view and felt fresh tears of surprise and joy slide down her face, as she watched the birth of her son.

She glanced at Charlie and saw his own eyes were shiny. His bottom lip started trembling and he felt overwhelmed by what he was seeing. It was incredible living in the moment once but to see it again…it brought out a strange mixture of pride and wonder inside his chest.

Claire lifted a trembling hand to her lips, unable to take her eyes off of the scene. She remembered holding Aaron in her arms for the first time. She'd cried so hard at her own little miracle, and had ignored the fact he was sticky. She'd clutched him to her chest and kissed his beautiful but sticky head, secretly marvelling at the fact that she was a mother with a _son._ It felt so surreal.

Charlie smiled at her, understanding how overwhelmed she must've felt seeing this all again. He leaned in to kiss her head but she'd turned her head at that point, meaning his lips had caught onto hers. She didn't turn away, as he'd feared, and instead kissed him back. It was short but sweet, signifying that they'd witnessed something so beautiful, something they'd already lived through. Though he'd only been in the shadows at the time, sitting with Jin and practically bursting out of his skin to go and help Claire, he was proud he'd been there to witness Aaron's birth. He was even prouder of Claire for managing to accomplish on an island what most women couldn't even put themselves through in the real world, under conditions far more sanitary than they would ever be here.

"Charlie?" she whispered, refusing to take her eyes off the scene.

It was one thing, after all, to live through something, and something else entirely to see it for yourself, played back for you like it'd been recorded.

"Yeah?"

"I never did get to say it, mostly because I was tired all the time and just so wrapped up with being a mother," she said quietly. "But…thank you."

"For what?" He looked surprised.

"For being there that night, which is more than the real father of the baby ever did. He walked out on us the moment he got scared by the situation."

"Sounds like a first class jerk," Charlie noted. "You're better off without him."

"Yeah…" Her tone indicated she wasn't done speaking yet. "I know I've made you believe I wanted to stay on the island so we could be together. That is true, but it's not the only reason I wanted to stay. I was terrified Thomas somehow would find me and try to take him off me if I got off the island."

"You just said he wanted nothing to do with you and the baby. Why would he try to find you?" Charlie replied, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

"He had a habit of changing his mind," Claire explained wryly. "He wanted the baby – it was his idea to raise Aaron in the first place – and then he didn't. I got scared, thinking I was going to have to do it alone. I wanted to give up my own son for adoption because I couldn't handle the thought that I would be a single mother. Financially, I couldn't do it, but also emotionally. I wasn't ready."

He listened to this with quiet understanding settling in. Secretly, he was fascinated by her confession, loving how he was finding out more about her day by day. One day he was sure he'd learn why she often looked haunted behind her eyes, but he knew that until she was ready trying to get it out of her would prove futile and possibly damaging to their gradually blossoming relationship.

"I'm sorry for not being entirely honest with you," she apologized. "It's just that these past few days have been a whirlwind. I know it sounds weird but I have a hard time trusting people."

He smiled. "I know. But we'll get through this together," he quoted, causing her to smile back at him.

They turned round and watched Kate pass Aaron to a clearly exhausted but relieved Claire. They simultaneously welled up at Claire's heart wrenching 'I have a son!', both of them completely enraptured by the experience. They gripped hands, a fast asleep Aaron nestled comfortably between them as they'd taken to kneeling at this point.

It seemed too good to be true that they'd been allowed to view this beautiful moment which had brought them even closer together. The familiar droning sound reminded them that it was indeed too good to be true. They huddled together, trying to keep themselves safe from the effects of it. It wasn't just that it was loud or obnoxiously interfering in their personal moments, but they also felt heavy after it, and during one point their noses had started bleeding, a fact which scared Charlie far more than it did Claire because he feared it was the beginning of the end of yet another death scenario, in which he always seemed to play the victim.

He couldn't explain why, now, the fear of dying had completely subsided. He knew it was imminent, but the fact he'd been prepared to die to get everyone rescued had changed the way he viewed death. Now, he was prepared for every eventuality, though he knew he'd hate to be taken away from Claire again. They finally were at a place in their lives where they both recognized how much they meant to each other and losing that was what would hurt him the most, not, as he'd previously thought, death.

When the noise and the light had faded away, Charlie rose up first, helping Claire to her feet as well. He'd recovered from his initial shock at the fact it had become day again, and turned his attention on checking Claire for any signs of injuries, however minor they may have been.

"That was…something." Claire shook her head, still reeling from it.

"Well, as well as being entertaining, it did at least confirm we are moving through time," Charlie replied, massaging his ankle when it started to twinge. "But I must say, it was bloody strange seeing that night again."

"I know," she replied, gazing at her son with fresh adoration in her eyes. "Wait a minute… _we're travelling through time?_"

She glared at him, wondering when he'd figured _that_ out.

"It's the only explanation for all the crazy stuff that's been going on," he said with a shrug. "I'm no scientist – far from it in fact – but we've been skipping through time. We saw that night because we were in the time period when it had actually happened." He pulled a face. "I can't explain things like Jack or Sayid can."

"You're doing fine," she replied, still a bit miffed he hadn't told her sooner about this time travelling lark."

"You're mad at me," he said matter-of-factly, though he immediately seemed to look concerned, as if bracing himself for her reaction. "Look, I didn't tell you because I wasn't completely sure, and I didn't want to sound like a mad man. I still remember the last time I tried to convince you I was making sense."

He immediately winced. The topic of their fallout was still a sore subject for both of them. For Claire, it had been a dark period because she'd truly believed he'd lied to her and that she could never trust a man again. It was one thing saying she had trust issues; it was another to realise exactly why she had those issues. For Charlie, he hated that he'd gone back on his promise to never hurt her. He'd been so alone and lost without her, and he'd very nearly gone insane just seeing Locke hang around her. Now they had a good thing going, he was determined to not do anything to screw it up again, no matter what.

Her gaze immediately softened, and her tone became less harsh.

"It's fine," she said, smiling at him. "I'm sorry. It's just I hate it when you keep things from me. Bad memories, you know?"

"Yeah, I do." He rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. "I won't do it again, Claire. Promise."

And, despite everything, she believed him.

After a while of just standing there, absorbing the events they'd just witnessed, and exchanging shy, nervous glances, Charlie suggested they head back to the caves, which seemed to be the only constant thing in their lives. He was almost nervous as to what they would find when they arrived but he knew they could survive anything together. He wouldn't let anything happen to her or Aaron and he was determined to make the happy ending they'd longed for last.

Trouble was, on an island this crazy, that thought was easier said than done, but he was determined to try all the same.

**A/n: Thank you for the reviews! I am so happy you like this story. I didn't want to go into too much detail with the flashes because it really isn't about that and I didn't want to delve into unnecessary detail about it. **

** Next chapter involves Charlie and Claire getting a little bit closer and Charlie recommencing his 'project'. Keep reviewing it makes me really happy! **


	5. It's Just Cause I Love You

_Chapter 5_

_It's Just Cause I Love You_

It'd been a week since the flashes had ended. It had been the best bloody week of his life, that week having been the closest to normality they'd ever been before. They'd waited in apprehension, not sure what to make of the silence and the fact that the sky above them was now a permanent blue in colour.

They'd soon adjusted, however, and had settled back into an almost normal routine. The last few flashes had been in startlingly close proximity to each other, causing their noses to bleed quite heavily, a fact which had particularly alarmed Claire because she detested - no, _loathed_ – the sight of blood. But Charlie's constant reassurances that they would be fine had settled her nerves and he, once again, had managed to convince her that staying with him had been the right thing to do.

Now, in the burning midday heat, Charlie was toiling away with his mysterious project. He'd made sure not to venture too far away from the caves and he'd told Claire nothing about what he was doing. He wanted to surprise her yet considering the scale of the project, both in terms of time and effort, it was easier said than done. To placate her, he'd told her he was out gathering what fruit he could find, which wasn't necessary a lie as he'd gathered fruit along the way.

Thanks to those stupid flashes, there was no chance of using the wood leftover from Eko's church, which meant he'd had to chop and hack away at the nearby trees in order to get fresh wood. He felt sweat drip down his back and, on more than one occasion, had nearly passed out. It wasn't because he was physically unfit or that he was unused to manual labour – in the old days, he'd contributed to the process of fetching and retrieving the wood for the rescue fire they'd kept aflame, so he was used to labour – but he feared he might be coming down with something.

Putting that fear aside for now, he gazed at the pile of wood he'd already cut and measured to shape and grinned, proud that his project was already coming to life. It might've just been a small pile of wood, but at least it was a start. It was more in the embryonic stages than anything else, at a time when it wasn't really anything but bits and pieces. He was excited nonetheless, even though his building skills left something to be desired.

Charlie glanced around, the quiet area he'd found giving him a fresh sense of confidence. It was only about five minutes walk away from the camp but he was confident Claire wouldn't stumble upon it; he knew full well she refused to leave the caves unless Charlie was with her, terrified something would tear them apart. He had to wean her off that fear, he realised, often worrying whether she was only terrified of losing him because she was terrified of being on her own or because she truly did care about him.

_Get over yourself, _his head scolded. _She's chosen to forsake her chance at having a normal life in the real world to be with YOU. That's more than a bloody hint that she likes you._

He plunged the axe against the trunk of another tree, visibly more relaxed as he realised he was probably worrying over nothing. It felt nice, for a change, worrying about something as trivial as unrequited feelings rather than worrying about when the next flash would come. In fact, it felt bloody brilliant.

He remembered the conversation he and Kate had had not too long ago, back when Desmond's visions had stalked his brain like a villainous character from a crime novel, when she'd asked after his relationship with Claire. His heart had done somersaults as he realised she – therefore everyone else must've run along the same sort of lines – classed him and Claire as a couple. Yet they'd not really advanced any further than sharing the odd kiss and cuddle.

As a man, and this wasn't him being a pushy jerk or anything, he often felt frustrated that she shied away from anything further than a cuddle, perhaps the odd massage. He physically wanted her, and every time he saw her hair catch the sunlight, her expression perhaps twisted into one of dreaminess, he felt desire course through his veins. But he knew they couldn't rush into these things. There were times, however, when she would peer at him between a fan of naturally lengthy eyelashes and he literally melted. She was so beautiful, so graceful, that he felt almost ugly next to her, as if he was a goblin from some fairytale standing in the presence of a princess.

He sighed loudly, pausing in his labour to intake some water. He felt unbelievably hot and pulled his shirt off. As soon as he'd done it, he couldn't help but glance mournfully at his pathetic display of a chest. It was flat, boring and completely average. Claire wasn't one for six packs and well toned bodies he'd been assured, but it would've been nice for his chest to at least _appear_ vaguely interesting to behold.

A wave of dizziness suddenly slammed into him, making him stumble backwards in alarm. He clutched his head, feeling nauseous, and made for the shade, convinced it was some form of sunstroke. He gulped down the rest of the water and gazed at the almost pitiful pile of wood he'd chopped down, wondering whether he should just call it a day. He clearly wasn't feeling completely up to it but then again if he went back Claire would worry. He didn't need her to fret and mollycoddle him if it was all for something trivial.

In a strange kind of compromise, he decided he would rest here for a few moments, before returning back. The dizziness wasn't subsiding and he could've really done with some of the medicine that'd been in that rucksack.

He slumped against a nearby tree, squinting as a ray of sun shot through the trees and lit him up like a Christmas tree. Sweat began pouring down his head again, which he'd assumed had been as a result of chopping wood during the hottest time of day. Now, however, he was beginning to think differently. He also felt so tired, so haggard even, as if he'd walked a great distance.

_I'll rest my eyes for just a moment, _he decided sleepily, struggling to keep his eyes open. _What harm could it do? _

/./././././

She'd had many beautiful mornings here, some spent watching the sun rise up into the sky with Charlie and some just spent listening to the waves crash across the sand. This, however, had to be one of her favourite mornings to date.

After waking up to a gentle kiss from Charlie – which, let's face it, was always going to make the beginning of her day bright – she'd spent the next hour or so making Aaron laugh, just because it was a beautiful sound you could appreciate anywhere. She'd sung little nursery rhymes to him – the ones she could remember that is – and swung him around and around, all the while aware Charlie's eyes never left her sight.

She'd noticed a change in him as of late, and she wasn't entirely sure it was a good one. Yes, you couldn't argue he was becoming steadily more mature and responsible, but she was afraid he was becoming less and less 'Charlie' in an effort to become more and more like Jack. How could she explain to him that whilst she was impressed by his leadership, she'd fallen for him because his silliness was all part of his charm? She loved the fact he was silly around her, because it proved he was comfortable enough to do that.

"Where's Charlie?" she asked Aaron, putting on a silly voice for his amusement. "Where is he?"

Aaron merely gurgled in reply and waved his arms around, gesturing for her to move her face closer so he could touch it. She obeyed and felt herself smiling widely as his tiny hands explored her face, touching her nose, her lips and the lids of her eyes. She felt love gush out of her for this miracle child and wanted to shout for Charlie so that he could be part of this wonderful moment.

She frowned, temporarily forgetting he'd gone searching for fruit. How long had he been now? Without a clock, she couldn't judge how long he'd been and that was something she quite missed – the ability to judge time. Without it, each day just seemed to blend into the next. She couldn't even recall what the date actually was, except it might've been sometime in December.

"Can you say mama?" she asked Aaron, smiling down at him and trying to banish the worry in her mind that something might've happened to Charlie? "Mama?"

Aaron just stared blankly at her and she sighed, electing to pick him up and rock him gently just for something to do. Had there been a clock somewhere, she probably would've stared at it until she felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder and saw his smile which automatically made her feel better.

Whilst Aaron was tucked in his Bjorn, Claire had a quick drink of water and washed her face, feeling a little bit more refreshed. She then lightly brushed her hair, mostly out of the desire to maintain a little bit of normality in her life. Afterwards, she played with Aaron, all the while noticing that time seemed to pass and yet there was no sign of Charlie. She'd tried listening out for him, but her senses had been dulled by the silence they'd had grown used to.

Seconds rolled into minutes, minutes into hours, and there was still no sign of him. Claire began to fret, and the inside of her stomach curled up. She physically felt sick. _Where are you?_ _Where are you?_ She felt terrified, panicky, and physically felt her stomach tie itself in knots.

"Come on, sweetie," she said to a half asleep Aaron. "Let's go find out where Charlie is."

She felt apprehensive all of a sudden, as if she knew she was going to stumble on something she didn't like. She didn't like the idea of wandering in the jungle all by herself, especially with a helpless infant in tow. Simply put, she had no idea how to defend herself should an occasion arise where self defence was needed, and the only times she'd struck out had been at the people she loved, specifically Charlie when he'd wound her up to the point where she'd completely snapped. Needless to say, she'd felt extremely guilty for slapping him when he'd clearly been in the process of explaining that he'd been sleepwalking. How could she have condemned him for that?

Every sound seemed magnified to her ears, and the fact she'd never really walked in the jungle on her own made every little natural sound, such as a twig snapping underneath her feet, or the crunching noises her feet made against the sound, made her jump with alarm.

She wasn't very good with directions but, due to the fact they hadn't the need to hide from anything anymore, Charlie's footprints made a pretty decent trail even _she_ could follow. As she walked, she hummed a familiar tune to herself, just to drown out the silence as mad as it seemed.

Ten minutes of this was enough to drive her insane with worry. For all she knew, he could've been at the caves right now, fretting because she wasn't there. But when someone you know and love resides in your heart, you know when something is horribly wrong and she felt that feeling resonate deep inside her. She might not have been fully aware of her own feelings but that didn't mean she didn't understand what she stood to lose should anything happen to him.

She pushed her way into a clearing, nearly tripping over a pile of wood which had just been recklessly left there. She cursed loudly, which stirred Aaron who started crying. At least, that's what she thought he was crying out; she'd never figured out just how much Aaron was aware of his surroundings.

Her eyes fell to a figure on the ground and her heart literally plummeted.

Charlie was leaning against a tree, looking somewhat peaceful, but she knew he wasn't asleep. For one thing, she could see even from here how sweaty his face looked. His mouth was open ever so slightly, and so his breaths came out as raspy and hoarse, like individual coughs. He seemed clearly flushed, like he was in the midst of a heavy fever or something, which terrified her because she had no idea how to deal with any illnesses. She couldn't even handle basic first aid without flipping out.

She knelt to the ground cautiously, and wiggled her way towards him. She laid a flat hand against his forehead, and immediately withdrew it. He was _scorching._ Without thinking, without even hesitating, she withdrew from the small bag she carried with her at all times a bottle of water and a bit of cloth. She tipped some water into the cloth and immediately pressed it against his forehead. It wasn't even something she had to think about it – it was just instinct.

She released the Bjorn clasp and gently laid Aaron onto Charlie's chest, which seemed to calm the little boy down immensely. He seemed to wiggle – that was the best word to describe it – towards Charlie's face and then sprawled when he couldn't quite push his body to crawl.

Meanwhile, Claire continued pressing the cold cloth to Charlie's forehead and she dribbled some excess water into his mouth. His lips came to life, even if the rest of his body didn't, and they reached out as the water trickled down his throat. Even though she felt frozen by the thought she could lose him, her hands took over when her brain couldn't. They gently smoothed his fringe out of the way so that the cloth met flesh, and she pressed it down with just the right level of firmness, like she'd been doing this her entire life.

It'd been fundamentally stupid to think they could live here without getting ill. It was just a fever of some sort, no big deal. She could cope with it, because surely all she had to do was keep his temperature down, occasionally give him some tablets (what little they had) and keep a close eye on him?

Back in the real world, that would've been the normal protocol, but here, in a place where Charlie's life was pretty much toyed around with by fate, destiny, whatever you called it, every little thing could've been the thing which took him away from her forever and she wasn't prepared for that. Not in the slightest.

"Charlie?" she murmured. "Can you hear me?"

He murmured and fidgeted, but it was nothing coherent. She slipped her hand in his and felt the need to let it rest there, just listening to the silence as a way of trying to calm herself down.

Aaron turned his head so he was staring at her with those big, beautiful eyes she always loved. As if sensing his mother needed comfort, he made a brave effort to reach out before falling on his face on Charlie. Laughing softly, she picked him up and kissed the top of his head, feeling, once again, incredibly glad she'd not given him away. Not that she'd had any choice in the matter anyway, but still…

The sound of voices suddenly had her attention. Fear trickled down her spine and she became divided as to who she was to protect. She picked Aaron up, gently put him inside his Bjorn, and started to drag Charlie onto her lap, feeling fiercely protective of him. She didn't really see what she could do, bearing in mind she had both a baby and a casualty to worry over.

"…think you worry too much, Bernard."

"Oh, _I_ worry too much? I'm just concerned that…"

"You're concerned about this, that and whatever. Why can't you just let things be?"

She couldn't help herself; a big smile crossed her face.

"Rose? Bernard?" she called.

The pair wandered into the clearing, stopping only to take in the sight in front of them. Rose looked lovely as ever, her hair noticeably longer. Bernard was slightly tubbier, and it seemed like he'd given up on shaving judging by the fact stubble surrounded his chin. They both, however, hadn't changed much, and she was delighted to see them.

"Claire?" Rose called. "Is that you, hon?"

"Yes," she said, her voice tightening with the beginning of hysteria. "I'm so glad you're here. I need your help."

"How come you're here? I would've thought you would've been on that helicopter," Rose said, her eyes filled with concern.

"Me and Charlie decided to stay like you," Claire said hurriedly. "Listen, Charlie's unconscious and he's not responding when I try and talk to him. I don't know what to do."

The edge of her voice was tinged with worry and hysteria. She briefly wondered if Charlie had been this panicky when she'd been ill, an event she still couldn't remember even to this day.

"It'll be ok," Bernard chimed in.

"Shush," Rose scolded him. "The poor girl doesn't need words of comfort. She needs her man to get better so he can look after them. Now, go and make yourself useful and fetch me my medical bag."

"Medical bag?" Bernard asked, looking confused.

"Next to the wash bag," Rose barked. "Now, get moving!"

Claire couldn't help but smile to herself. Rose was still bossing Bernard about and Bernard was still obeying her orders in a flustered manner. Nothing had changed in _that_ department.

"Right, hon, let's have a look at the poor fellow," Rose said, bustling past.

She knelt down and felt Charlie's head, muttering something underneath her breath Claire couldn't quite catch. Claire had to marvel at her almost motherly techniques, as she cupped Charlie's chin in her hands and gently wiped the cloth around his face so that every pore on his skin felt the benefit of the cold water.

"Is he ok?" she asked anxiously.

"Well, I'm no doctor," Rose began, glancing at her. "But it seems to be just a fever. I don't think it's anything worse."

"So he's going to be alright?" Claire felt lightheaded with relief. "He's not going to die."

"Good heavens, no." Rose chuckled. "Try having a little faith sometimes, Claire. It works wonders."

"I used to have faith in a lot of things," Claire confessed quietly, gazing down at her son who had his fist inside his little mouth. "But it's hard to find faith where there's none to be found."

Rose gazed at her sympathetically.

"Having faith is difficult, I know," she said quietly. "But it ain't about finding faith, sweetie. It's about finding something you have faith in. Like you, I used to be lost and scared. I never told you about my daughter did I? Bethany May, she was called, after my Grandma. I lost her when she was only three. I remember her smile more than anything else. It was the kind of smile that had you smiling."

Rose's eyes seemed to adopt a far away look as she spoke, though she continued kneading the wet cloth into Charlie's skin without breaking her pace.

"How did she…?" Claire couldn't say the words. It felt too rude, somehow.

"Leukaemia," Rose said simply. "That's how I knew something would be wrong with me. Her father's family were all healthy as horses. Not a trace of illness in their family tree. When she died, a part of me did too. But when Bernard came along, I finally found faith in something again."

Claire was speechless, completely moved by Rose's story. The older woman had never revealed much about herself, and nobody had ever pried her for information. Her and Bernard had always been part of the background, never quite in the action, and were content to be there.

Not unlike her and Charlie, except they'd had occasions of being dragged into the action when all they'd wanted was peace and normality.

"I'm back," Bernard announced, making the two women look up quickly.

"Well, stop giving us useless announcements and come and help save this poor boy's life," Rose scolded. "What took you so long anyway?"

"I was just…" Bernard began.

"Quit chatting and get over here," his wife interrupted.

Bernard grumbled under his breath, much to Claire's amusement, but hurried to his wife side, handing her an assortment of pills and tablets, claiming he wasn't entirely sure which ones were best.

"This is coming from a man who did three years of medical school before opting out and going into dentistry," Rose told Claire, rolling her eyes.

Rose then proceeded to instruct Claire into holding Charlie's head up, before gently opening his mouth so she could pop a couple of tablets in.

"Charlie," Claire murmured in his ear. "I remember learning this trick from, Kate, the whole whisper in the ear thing. I know you're probably aching to sleep but please wake up and help me. All you have to do is swallow, and then you can drift back off to sleep. Please. If you care about us, about staying together, then please swallow these pills and you'll be fine."

She felt him stir in her arms and, to her surprise and relief, he swallowed the tablets along with some water she'd poured into his mouth. She kissed the top of his head with relief, feeling tears run down her cheeks out of some bizarre combination of gratefulness and love.

"He's a good man," Rose observed fondly. "He wouldn't speak when you were gone, Claire. Didn't have a word to say to anyone, and when he did speak, he blamed himself for your disappearance."

"Can't say I'm surprised," Claire said softly. "He always reaps the blame for whenever things go wrong. He's just so sweet, so caring, that I can't believe I have him in my life. It's like, every time I see him, my whole world just becomes brighter. Am I making sense?"

"Course not," Rose grinned. "People who are in love never do."

"I never said I was in love with him," Claire said quickly.

"Didn't have to, hon," Rose replied, still grinning. "It's written all over your face."

Claire fell silent, trying to feel her face from the inside out so that she could understand what Rose meant by that. She could feel her smile, faint as it was, and felt some sort of peace inside her, which hadn't existed before. That peace only seemed to surface when Charlie was around, but surely that wasn't good enough to qualify as evidence that she was in love with him?

But deep down, she knew the truth; she'd known it all along really.

"It's ok to feel like that you know," Rose informed her, smiling widely at her. "Everyone knew you two would end up together."

"Really?" Claire said incredulously.

"Honey, when I spoke to him it was clear he was crazy about you. The way you acted around each other…Well, it's always been clear there's been _something_ there."

Claire smiled shyly at her, and then looked down at Charlie. She stroked his fringe absentmindedly, wondering whether it was just this feeling which made everything about him so beautiful. Normally, she wouldn't have found someone like him attractive – not that she was being critical – and she wouldn't have opted for someone older, although, now she thought about it, she liked the small age gap between them – it sort of gave her reassurance that he would always protect her, him being the older one.

Now, though, she couldn't imagine a more beautiful person on the planet.

"I think he'll be fine," Rose announced, leaning away from Charlie to give Claire a comforting shoulder rub.

"How can you tell?" Claire asked anxiously.

"Because he's waking up," Rose said with a smile. "Which, if I'm not mistaken, is my cue to leave."

She stood up and smiled at Bernard, nodding at him to leave.

"Where are you going? Will I ever see you again?" Claire blurted out.

"This isn't goodbye," Rose reminded her gently. "But we've got our own life to live. We can't be pulled into anymore drama, whether it's intentional or not. Me and Bernard…we'll help you in any way we can but you've made your choice to stay together and we've made ours."

She gave Claire a parting smile before following her husband out of sight. Claire felt a strange sense of loss, as if she knew in her heart there was a possibility she might never seen them again. She'd never really gotten to know Bernard, but Rose she'd seen as almost a parental figure, someone you could always rely on no matter what.

Aaron suddenly made a noise and she turned her gaze from the place where Rose and Bernard had disappeared into to smile at her son. From there her eyes turned to Charlie, who seemed to be stirring like Rose had said.

"Hey," she said softly.

He blinked up at her, still looking flushed which let her know the fever hadn't quite gone yet but she knew he was going to be alright. This island worked in mysterious ways; take Rose's case, a woman with a terminal illness who somehow became better. What was a mere fever to a terminal illness, really?

"Claire?" he croaked, looking surprised. "Why are you here?"

She was surprised by the question.

"I got worried when you didn't show up after two hours, so I went looking for you. Saw you unconscious and completely freaked out," she replied, surprised to notice her hands were shaking ever so slightly.

"How could that be? I was…resting," Charlie said with a frown.

He wiped his forehead, and then stared at his fingers, vaguely surprised to see beads of sweat there. He stared at Claire, even more surprised to see fear lines etched into her skin. Panic, however faint it was, was detectable in her eyes, and he silently kicked himself for making her worry.

"You have a fever," she told him calmly. "I should've seen it coming. You've not been yourself for a while…"

"A fever?" he repeated, feeling like his head was on fire. "Makes sense, I guess."

He realised he wasn't really making a lot of sense, and there was a part of him which just longed to _sleep_, but he remembered a cool voice in the back of his head, a voice which sounded as sweet as any lullaby and which told him to keep fighting. He might've been out of it, but he knew it was hers.

"Trust me to get ill," he suddenly grumbled. "It was s'posed to be _me_ taking care of you, not the other way round."

"We're living on a tropical island - what did you expect?" she teased. "What were you doing out here anyway?"

"Gathering fruit," Charlie said immediately.

"Where the hell's your fruit then? I don't see any signs of it?"

He closed his eyes. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"What?" she demanded. "What did you want to be a surprise? Come on, tell me. Don't shut me out."

He opened his eyes, still fighting to remain conscious, and gently cupped his hand underneath her chin. He just wanted the contact, if anything else, because he felt like he'd gone without it for so long when it had, in reality, only been a couple of hours.

"I was trying to build us a house," he said seriously. "You know the ones made of wood? Like a log cabin?" He smiled dreamily. "I wanted to build us a house." He grimaced as a sudden bout of pain hit his head. "No mortgage, no fuss, right?"

Claire laughed weakly. Only Charlie would joke around whilst he was ill. She was relieved; her Charlie was still very much there, still very much around. There was always a compromise; she could still have her Charlie and yet know he was fully capable of looking after both of them. That's all she'd ever wanted.

"Just focus on getting better," she scolded. "Joke around all you want later; for now, just get better."

"Yes, ma'am," Charlie murmured, lifting up his hand for a weak salute.

"I realised something today," she said, mostly to herself although it didn't hurt that he was present. "I saw, for just a second, what my life would be like without you in it. And honestly I don't think I could've coped if something had happened to you. I may have been mad as hell at you once but that didn't stop me wandering down to the other end of the beach ever so often, just to check if you were alright. It didn't stop me annoying the hell out of everyone asking where you were, when you went off with Sayid and Ana and I didn't have a clue where you were. And it certainly didn't stop me feeling so _relieved_ to see you after the hatch had imploded!"

She paused for a brief moment, mostly to catch her breath.

"That's quite a speech," Charlie murmured, his eyes closed. "Did you write it yourself?"

"Be serious," she said, hitting him lightly on the arm. "What I'm trying to say is…What I've wanted to say for some time is…I…I love you."

She exhaled, feeling relieved to have released that from her system. She looked at Charlie, trying to gage his reaction, trying to see if what she'd said had gone down well. He was grinning – but what about she had no idea.

"There; that wasn't so hard now was it?" he murmured, his lips twitching as he fought the urge to laugh.

"Wait – you _knew_?" She couldn't believe it; how had he known before she had?

"Well, I thought there was a _chance_ you might...you know…have feelings for me," Charlie confessed, slowly opening his eyes even though it felt like hell to do so. "I also knew you had something you wanted to get off your chest for a while and…I heard you say you loved me in your sleep."

"Oh, no! Did I talk in my sleep? Really? Oh my God!" Claire felt mortified.

"Only the once," he said quickly. "And it was nice to hear. It was nice to hear that…you loved me too. Even if it _was_ only whilst you were unconscious."

"Too?" Claire had picked up on the key word. "As in…?"

"I think I've made my feelings quite clear for a while," Charlie said, feeling his headache lessen somewhat. Or was it just this feeling? This feeling of being so high up that everything else seemed smaller, insignificant even, compared to it.

She smiled shyly at him, electing to stare at the ground because she felt so overwhelmed by the days' events. So much had happened and she had so much to evaluate and re-evaluate. For now, she allowed the relief that Charlie was going to be alright to fill her body like air in a balloon.

"I love you," Charlie added, closing his eyes again. "Whatever else may have changed, the way I feel about you hasn't. I'm now going to close this mushy discussion by going back to sleep, so pardon my rudeness."

She laughed like she'd never laughed before. It had everything in it – joy, love, giddiness, relief, the whole bundle.

"Can you stay awake for just a little longer?" she asked.

"For you, always," he murmured, although she knew he was fading into the realms of unconsciousness. "What can I do you for?"

"This," she whispered.

And she leaned in to kiss his lips.

**A/n: Thank you for reviewing! Seriously makes my day! Lots of fluffiness in this chapter and next chapter…is probably smutty. Not gonna lie to you. The next chapter is going to be the hardest to write and will contain "romantic themes" just to let you know. I can't write smutty; this should be interesting… **


	6. There's More to Me and You

_Chapter Six _

_There's More to Me and You_

He whittled the two pieces of wood down into manageable pieces, and then formed a cross out of them by slotting them into place. He repeated this process with another two pieces and finished off by staking them into the ground, in an open area on a quieter part of the beach.

He'd spent pretty much most of the morning fashioning crosses and carving names into them, trying to recreate the graves out of respect for the people who were gone. The camp may have disappeared – and, with them, the crosses and graves of the people they'd had to bury – but the memory of those people hadn't, and he felt like it was only right and fair that he made sure the world still knew about them.

With one of Locke's knives, Charlie carved the last two names on their respective crosses and stood back to admire his work. They weren't half bad, especially considering he hadn't taken part in the construction of the previous crosses, but the sight of them reminded him that those early days post crash had been tinged with the bad as well as the good. He'd probably been most affected by Boone's death, only because he realised the guy had been around the same age as him, not to mention he'd been shaken by the fact hanging around Locke had been the reason he'd died.

Charlie remembered those days of hanging around Locke, hands in his pockets, an air of hero worship about him, and remembered telling Jack that he'd put his absolute trust in him to get them all off the island.

It was funny how things changed.

He knelt down beside one of the makeshift graves, aware he was technically breaking Claire's rules by being out here without her. But she was asleep, and what she didn't know couldn't really hurt her.

"Hey," he said softly, placing a flower along the base of the cross where the head of the grave would've been. "I know you're used to someone else talking to you, but he's gone. He's off the island and I promised him I'd come and talk to you every once in a while. Just so you don't, and I quote, 'get lonely.'

He rolled his eyes, although an amused grin touched his lips.

"Only Hurley, right?" he continued. "I know he still misses you. I'm sorry I never got to talk to you, or give you the whole 'don't hurt my best friend' speech I had prepared for when things got serious. I'm sorry you're not on that helicopter, flying out of here with Hurley like you deserved. Most of all," he lowered his voice to a whisper, in case anyone was listening, "I'm sorry you're six feet under and I'm not."

Charlie didn't really mean the last part of the statement, because he was truly and honestly glad to be alive, but he got to choose his fate, whether to succumb to death or fight it– Libby hadn't. It felt like fate dealt the worst hands to the best people, leaving the less deserving with the best hands.

He rose to his feet, feeling somewhat shaken by the mental image he had in his head of there being one more grave beside Libby and Ana's, marked with his name on it. Ok, he'd had that image from day one, this time he being the one envisioning his death – sometimes it had been an overdose, other times a flying piece of shrapnel or a serious illness – but, over the weeks, that image had, several times, been close to being fulfilled.

He stared at Libby's makeshift grave a while longer, trying to remember what she looked like, when his eyes fell across to the neighbouring cross. An image of a dark haired, bitter faced, tense figure entered in his mind, a figure he'd initially clashed with until, at the last moment, he realised they weren't exactly dissimilar. He suspected they could've been almost friends, especially since he hadn't really cared too much for Shannon and had used her death to put some distance between him and a woman who, he feared, was intelligent enough to work out he'd helped Sawyer acquire the guns.

He didn't know what was wrong with him; lately, all he'd been able to think about was the past, and how he wished he was able to change things.

It was probably the fever, he reasoned. He hadn't wanted to worry Claire but he'd felt himself near death at one point. It was almost as bad as withdrawal…almost. He wondered if Desmond had been around whether that would've been something he would've intervened with.

Charlie stared at the graves for a while longer, wondering morbidly if the bodies had disappeared in time as well or whether that was something that just didn't change. He'd never thought he'd ever have to contemplate about time travelling corpses, and, frankly, the thought was morbid and disgusting, not to mention a little disrespectful, but he supposed there was a lot in his life he wouldn't have ever thought possible, his relationship with Claire being the prime example.

"Rest in peace," he said simply, to both graves.

What more could you really say?

X-X-X

She awoke to find a tiny hand exploring her face. She blinked rapidly, not entirely sure what it was for due to the amount of sleep she still had in her eyes. The hand crawled across her face like an insect, poking her everywhere without remorse.

"Morning, sweetie," she murmured, smiling at the fact she had her own mini alarm clock, in the shape of her son.

"Morning, love," was the surprising response.

Her eyes widened, and realised sleepy eyes completely screwed perspective up. Now she was more awake, she could see that the hand wasn't tiny – it was huge. The fingers, which were alternatively poking and stroking her face, were definitely not the fingers of a baby, and that caused her smile to widen.

"Morning," she said sleepily, pulling herself up so that she was halfway to sitting up. "Did you let me sleep in again?"

"Yes." At least he was honest. "You've been taking care of me, Claire, and I wanted to give something back. _I'm_ supposed to be taking care of _you_, after all."

"Oh, and I can't take care of you without your alpha male pride kicking in?" she asked, undecided as to whether or not she should be offended by his slightly sexist comment, like she always had to be the damsel and never the white knight.

"That's not what I meant…"

"Where's Aaron?" Claire asked suddenly, noticing her son seemed to be missing and silently cursing herself for not noticing sooner.

"Rose and Bernard have him," Charlie confessed, looking abashed and half expecting her to yell at him. "I just wanted us to have some time together. Like a date. But not if you think it's too soon," he hastily added. "It can just be a frate."

"A frate?" she repeated, with raised eyebrows.

"A friend-date," he clarified, gazing at her with those oh-so beautiful eyes she loved staring into.

"That's really sweet," she said, her sweet, dimpled smile resurfacing on her face. "What did you have in mind for our _frate?_" She chuckled at the term.

"Well, I found a place the other day, a quiet spot on these cliffs," he explained quickly. "It's a perfect picnic spot, and it overlooks the sea and it looks beautiful when the moon comes up. Honest. And, I _know_ no one else has been there, so we can make it our own. I haven't got any candles or anything, but it should be nice. A moonlit picnic."

She didn't know what to say.

The fact he'd gone to so much trouble to plan this perfect evening for her told her two things – one, he was sweeter than she perhaps gave him credit for, and two, he perhaps had another motive for wanting her alone. The latter thought made her nervous…incredibly so.

She'd only had two lovers in her life – Thomas, obviously, and a guy from the year above at school called Adam. Both hadn't particularly shown any tenderness towards her when they'd…done the deed, for two different reasons. Thomas had just been happy to touch a girl, therefore had concentrated solely on his own needs, and Adam had just wanted to add another notch to his belt. Enough said, really.

She and Charlie were complicated, both as a couple and as individuals. She had her baggage and she knew he had his. But they loved each other in spite of and because of that fact. She knew he would never deliberately hurt her, but she was reluctant to go that extra mile.

For one, it hadn't been that long since Aaron's birth had ravaged her body, and she didn't feel attractive. She knew she had to be completely comfortable, inside and out, to take that important step, and she just wasn't sure she was. For another, she was still not sure they were ready to do that. They'd been together officially for a couple of weeks, and even then they usually didn't do anything more than kiss or share the odd cuddle.

Maybe they just weren't _that_ kind of couple, the couple who would be comfortable enough to take their love onto _that_ level.

"What do you say?" Charlie asked, noticing she looked conflicted.

_Just go on the date, Claire, _her heart chided. _If things become awkward, use your brain and just say no. _

"I'd love to," she said finally, beaming up at him.

He just seemed to beam back, his whole face alight with joy. She liked making him smile – there was a childlike quality to him which made her realise she had the joy of having a man who could be as responsible as Jack but with a childish side which made her laugh.

"Ok, then," he said, nodding. "Want my number, then?"

She burst out laughing at that.

"What, er, kind of food will we be having on this picnic then?" she asked, raising a lone eyebrow flirtatiously.

"Peanut butter, obviously," he began.

"Real or imaginary?" she fired back.

"Both," he answered, grinning. "Always both."

She laughed, taking her hand in his. He always knew how to make her smile. When you were stuck on a deserted, maybe haunted, crazy island, you couldn't help but cherish the moments which made you smile. Charlie was in a great many of hers but, on the flipside, he was also in a great many of her moments which had made her sad, or angry. She often had to press pause when it came to them, reminding herself that he was perfectly capable of hurting her, inadvertently or otherwise,

It wasn't something she did to spite him – it was just a form of self preservation.

"It feels strange," she confessed, "not having Aaron here. I'm not sure if I like it, to be honest."

Charlie smirked. "Insecure much?"

"No," she protested. "I trust Rose and Bernard completely. He's my _son_, Charlie. Without him I feel…"

"…lost," Charlie finished.

"Exactly." She suddenly smiled again. "I love how you get me. It's nice."

"Nice?" He raised an eyebrow at the seemingly lukewarm word.

"Oh, shut up." She playfully shoved him. "It's not my fault you make me so flustered I can't speak."

He leaned to one side, attempting to look charming – well, either that or casual – and she lightly pushed him, which sent him toppling. She laughed loudly, a sound which rippled through the jungle like the wind.

"You're an idiot," she informed him, grinning.

"Yeah, but you're stuck with me," Charlie pointed out, also grinning. "So, in the long run, my idiocy is your problem, not mine."

"Didn't you hear? I booked a helicopter to take me and Aaron home."

"Yeah, but I cancelled it. Convinced them you were insane."

"I booked with another company."

"Doubt it. First rule of helicopter club…Well, the first rule is never talk about the helicopter club. The second rule, though, is that they know everything."

She giggled, realizing their conversation probably sounded insane. But she liked being silly with him, liked being silly _around_ him. Everyone in her life had always pushed her into acting more mature, more grown up, and it was everyone pushing her to be someone she wasn't which had caused her to fall pregnant. That, and peer pressure.

What she loved about Charlie was that she could be whoever she wanted to be around him, and he didn't judge her for it.

She tilted her head to one side, as if scrutinizing him, and leaned in to kiss his lips. She felt his smile, before she saw it, and gently pulled back, laughing at his little boy pout. She wasn't being a tease – ok, maybe a little – and it was simply down to an imbalance of desire on his part that he felt dismayed every time she pulled away. In these last few months, after all, she'd been through so much – she'd had a baby, fallen in love, experienced moments of dire panic and worry, not to mention had been kidnapped by a man bent on cutting her baby out.

Apart from the last one, her life pretty much measured up to a normal person's.

Complicated relationship and/or love life – check.

Nagging doubts about how good a parent she actually was – check.

An uncertain future – double check.

X-X-X

Charlie had stumbled on the place purely by luck, but he suspected there was a sentimental reason behind it too.

He'd taken a wrong turning, had attempted to double back, and had ended up here, staring across at the ocean as the fringes of dawn had touched the sky. He could remember the piers at Southend, during the infrequent holidays he and his family had embarked on, and felt almost at home, finally finding something familiar amongst the unfamiliar. If he squinted hard enough, he could envision the pier, with his younger self walking along it, hands in his pocket, whistling a tune of some sort, occasionally bending down to scrawl some notes on a piece of paper he'd tucked into the pockets of his trousers.

There was a large area of grass on the cliff edge, extending inwards so that there was enough of a place for two people to sit down without going over the edge. He smiled at the various flowers dotted around the place, which seemed to be utterly unaware of the fact that, in the real world, they wouldn't have survived. They would've been tucked underneath the snow, or the fallen leaves, slowly wilting under winter's cruel gaze. He drew a strange kind of comfort from them, knowing they weren't in a place they were supposed to be, yet still continued to exist and to thrive with almost a supernatural kind of stubbornness.

It gave him hope, oddly enough.

What he loved most about it was how such a quiet, almost heavenly place could coexist with the noisy, harsh terrain of the jungle.

He led Claire there now, watching her anxiously as she followed him, determined not to lose sight of her. From what he could tell, the sun had long since disappeared and the moon was rapidly rising.

When he noticed her stumble, he reached out a hand and took hers, guiding her along the rocky terrain they'd suddenly come across. He noticed her hair blowing gently in the breeze, and the smile she kept for herself, and fell in love all over again. There were no songs, no words, he could come up with which could epitomise this moment.

"You're such a gentleman," Claire told him, smiling.

"Well, I try." He gave a quick mock bow. "I believe dinner is served."

He gestured to the spread he'd prepared earlier. There were Dharma sandwiches – peanut butter spread, of course – and some Oreos he'd managed to nick from Sawyer's tent during their earlier scavenger hunt. He'd also found a crate of Dharma wine in the middle of the jungle, in an area which, unless he was very much mistaken, was covered in tyre tracks.

"Oh, Charlie…" Claire was at a loss for words. "This is…This is amazing."

"I figured I'd go the extra mile tonight, considering how the last picnic ended up," he replied quietly, tilting his head to one side as he watched her examine the picnic.

"Peanut butter," she breathed, noticing one of the jars.

He held up an empty one. "And imaginary, just like I promised."

She laughed, a sound which just continued to delight him no matter how often he heard it. He loved that he was getting just _her_ tonight. No baby, no drama, no responsibilities. Just utter perfection.

He sat down, continuing to watch her as she did the same. He opened one of the bottles, poured them both a drink, and sipped his, hissing with surprise when the liquid poured down his throat.

"What is it?" Claire asked, immediately worried.

"Well, I'm no expert in wine," he replied, gazing at the wine, almost mesmerised by it, "but that doesn't taste a day old."

"So?"

"So?" Charlie repeated. "This is wine from the _Dharma Initiative_. I just figured it would've tasted…older."

"There isn't a part of that sentence which doesn't sound wrong," Claire teased good-naturedly.

"Do you think we're in Dharma times?" Charlie whispered, his eyes widening with surprise at that idea.

"Charlie…" Claire gently touched his arm. "Can we…not talk about that tonight? I don't want to talk about the craziness that has become our reality. I want tonight to be about you and me."

He nodded, bowing his head shyly at her last sentence.

"So, Mr Pace," she continued, a teasing smile on her lips. "Tell me something about you I don't already know. Some juicy little secret."  
"Some juicy little secret? What are we, a cheesy couple from a lame '70s sitcom?" he teased back.

"Mm…come on, don't avoid the question," she replied, her grin suddenly becoming flirtatious.

"Well, you already know my darkest secret," he said, shuddering at _that_ particular memory. "What else can I tell you? Our first idea for a name for our band was the Junkyard Dogs, until one of our members thought that was already a band name. My mother wanted to call me Henry Laurence, after her grandfather…"

"Was I not clear? I meant a juicy little secret about _you,_" she said, edging up closer to him, putting her glass down so she could place her hand on top of him.

He stared at her intensely, wondering what exactly she wanted. Was she testing him, somehow? Was she genuinely curious about his life? Was she making sure she knew exactly who she was with, who she was trusting her child with?

"What are you hiding from me?" he suddenly asked.

She shifted, looking and feeling slightly wary.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You say tonight's about you and me, but I get the feeling we're just going to be talking about me all night," he replied with a frown. "Every time we get close to talking about you, you change the subject. I don't get it, Claire – what happened in your life which has got you so scared to talk about it? What am I missing?"

Claire felt tears bubbling up in her eyes. She hadn't meant for the conversation to steer in this direction. She'd known, however, that this was something they'd eventually have to talk about. She didn't know if she could face talking to him about it, because in terms of the dark things they'd done, the scales weighed unfavourably for her. Ok, he'd been a junkie, but he'd never caused anyone he'd loved to end up in hospital. He'd never caused the one person in his life that he treasured the most to end up in such a state that they needed a machine to keep them alive.

She drew her knees up to her chest, the way she always did when she was upset, and turned her body around to face the ocean. The tears bubbled over and ran down her cheeks, and the moonlight maliciously revealed them. She hated crying, and the one thing she hated even more than that was being caught crying.

"Claire?" He sounded troubled.

She avoided his gaze, keeping hers fixed ahead at the ocean. There was so much Charlie didn't know about her, so much he probably didn't want to know. Her mother might've been hundreds of miles away, lying in her hospital bed, completely oblivious to the world, but the guilt wouldn't leave her alone.

"Claire? Talk to me," Charlie pleaded. "Don't shut me out."

She felt suddenly cold, like everything warm in the world had just been snuffed out, leaving nothing but impenetrable ice. She felt numb, even as Charlie flung an arm around her and pulled her towards him.

"I went through a phase," she said, her voice hoarse, "of dying my hair black, pretending I was Goth just for the sake of pissing my mother off. Back then, we didn't get on so well. We fought about everything – from dad leaving, to the boys I dated – and we just never seemed to get on. We both were stubborn, I guess.

"One of the biggest fights we ever had happened after we'd been shopping. She just looked at me funny and I started going off at her, accusing her of thinking I was lowlife, the worst sort of daughter. The argument got pretty bad and I told her…I told her I _hated_ her, that I wished she was dead and the car…I lost control for just a second, and that made all the difference. I drove into the path of an oncoming truck and I blacked out. When I woke up, my mum was lying on the road. She – She wasn't _moving_."

She'd held up pretty well until then. The tears suddenly started taking over, causing her to choke and splutter, wishing she could erase that particular memory from her mind forever.

"The doctors said she was in a coma. They didn't know when she would wake up, or even if she ever would," she continued, the tears still continue to pour down her face. "Someone could've pulled the plug by now and…I never got to say goodbye."

Her shoulders started to shake as the sobs overcame her. She buried her head in her hands, wondering if this guilt would ever let up. But she could sense relief mixed in with the guilt and the sadness, as though she'd become unburdened a little just by getting it off her chest.

Charlie, meanwhile, sat in a stupefied silence, unsure what to say or what to think. He couldn't judge her – what she'd done was an accident, a temporary lapse in control, whereas he had pushed everyone he'd loved out of his life. He kept his arm locked around her and, with as much gentleness as he could, pulled her even closer towards his chest, allowing her head to press against his chest.

For ten minutes he allowed her to cry into his chest. He knew there was going to be no way he could persuade her it wasn't her fault – he suspected she laid the blame entirely on herself and crucified anyone who even tried to convince her otherwise.

He went to kiss her cheek but her head turned at the last minute. Her bleary eyes met his intense ones, and they engaged in a staring contest for a few minutes. Then, she made the first move, and craned her neck so she could meet his lips. He could taste her salty tears on her lips, yet deepened the kiss anyway. Her body twisted so she was facing him properly and she threw her arms around his neck, and there was a look of blazing determination in her eyes which he'd never seen before.

His hands, which had flown onto her wrists in order to lock them there, slid down to her waist. He looked into her eyes, silently seeking her permission, and she briefly nodded, even as her lips remained locked against his. His hands then slid up past her waist, hovering just below the area where her breasts were.

He hesitated, realizing they were both entering dangerous territory here. This looked set to be their _first time_, and he knew he wasn't the only man in the world who'd rather it not be in reaction to hearing a girl sob out that she'd put her mum in a coma. But she looked too far gone to be reasoned with, a sentence he never thought he'd be uttering to himself.

By now, Claire's lips had wandered elsewhere; in the area of his neck, to be precise. He closed his eyes slowly, realizing if he let this go on any further this night could either be a complete success or a complete disaster. And even though he wanted this moment, he felt like it would cause them to fall apart rather than unite. Plus he didn't want to take advantage of her vulnerable state.

"Claire…" he muttered. "We – We can't do this. Not here, not now."

She leaned back to gaze intently at him, and he saw via the moonlight just how broken she looked. He stroked her face, wiping away the tears as he did so.

"Why?" she whispered.

He sighed.

"Because we both need time to get over each other's baggage," he told her gently. "We need to get to know each other properly before we make any kind of move like that. Let's finish our picnic and go back, ok? The sooner we go sleep, the sooner you can get Aaron back."

"Thanks, Charlie," she said gratefully, leaning against him. "You're so good at taking care of me."

"I aim to please," he murmured, kissing the top of her head with affection.

They sat there for most of the night, Claire's head resting against his, absorbing the quiet night, the serene ocean and, most of all, how lucky they were to be together.

**A/n:** Hey, sorry this hasn't been updated in a while. Just had other stories to sort of update first. Hehe. There will be more drama in this story, promise. They are in the 1970s after all (which makes Charlie's comment particularly ironic lol.) which means a confrontation with the Dharma folk and/or the 'hostiles' is inevitable. Charlie and Claire probably won't have a "moment" like this one for a while so enjoy it. Thanks for reviewing and faving this story! Means a lot to me that you like it!


	7. No More Lies

_Chapter 7_

_No More Lies_

Claire pulled her face at her own reflection. She hadn't had a decent wash in days, weeks, even, because life – and drama – had taken over. Her hair was visibly longer than it was, and she silently moaned at how knotty and unmanageable it was.

She was sitting by the caves the morning after hers and Charlie's first date – something she was still smiling about – hoping Charlie was alright. He'd gone to retrieve Aaron, leaving her behind to clean up. She rubbed at her cheeks half heartedly, trying to remove the patches of dirt she could see. She felt completely unattractive, but Charlie had this amazing way of making her feel like the most beautiful person in the world even when she looked – and felt – her worst.

"Morning delivery," Charlie announced from behind her.

Claire smiled, turning around to see him carrying a surprisingly perky Aaron in his arms. Like all those weeks ago, she ran towards him and took Aaron off of him, kissing him on the cheek as if he'd fought off every obstacle imaginable just to retriever her – no, she mentally corrected herself, _their_ – little boy.

She had to start realizing that biology wasn't the major factor in raising a child. It was about how much unconditional love a person gave that child. In fact, out here in the jungle, where no one who knew her or their situation, it was so easy to fall into the pretence that she and Charlie were a couple and that Charlie was the father of her child. She dreaded the day when Aaron would grow up and his biological father's features would develop in full view of the world.

"How was he?" she asked, bouncing Aaron lightly up and down on her lap.

"Good as gold, apparently," Charlie said casually, sitting himself down by the waterfall as he began to wash his face. "He made a bit of a fuss when he realized I wasn't coming back but he soon settled down."

"Good," she said absent-mindedly. "It's nice that we have a babysitter when we want some alone time." She blushed suddenly, her minds wandering over to less clean grounds. "I meant…"

"I know, love," Charlie said, grinning broadly in her direction. "As much as I love him, it's nice having some other people who can look after him. It's also good for _him_, having other people around to interact with. Helps his development and growth according to a baby book I read once."

"What made you read a baby book?" Claire asked with interest.

He went quiet, and she figured she'd hit a sore area until she realized he was only frowning to try and recall the memory.

"I think it was when Karen asked me to babysit my niece for the first time," he said slowly. "I got all panicky, thinking I'd do something stupid and end up, I dunno, killing her or something. I grabbed a few baby books from their shelves and took them home, reading them every night to make sure I knew what to do. Liam had every faith in me that I would do fine but Karen…She was never sure about me. I had the feeling she was only asking me because she had nobody else to ask, and I'm pretty damn sure Liam had to talk her round."

"What a bitch," Claire said vehemently.

He smiled at her abrasive show of support and walked over to her, throwing an arm around her and feeling a surge of affection flare up inside him.

"She's not a bitch, Claire," he said with a quiet grin. "I know for a fact you've always been unsure of me, too. I don't know whether you still are or not, but mothers instinctively don't trust anyone to look after their kids. Even the dads." He laughed. "At the time, I resented her for the lack of faith in me. Now, I realize why. Being around you and Aaron has made me understand that sense of protectiveness parents have around their children."

"I have faith in you, Charlie," Claire said quietly, moved by his story. "Thank you for being honest. I like it when you tell me stories about your life. I feel like I know you a little better."

Aaron interrupted the moment, as he usually did, by sticking out an impatient hand against his mother's chest and making a series of unintelligible shrieks.

"He gets his demanding nature from his father, I fear," she sighed. "That, and his habit of ruining the moment…"

"What was his father like?" Charlie asked curiously.

Claire turned towards him, pulling a face which instantly defrosted the tension. He laughed and repeated the question, insisting he seriously wanted to know for the purposes of getting to know her better, to which she had no response without seeming like a hypocrite.

"His father is a man called Thomas," she said reluctantly. "I was pushed into dating him by one of my friends. Initially, I loved him a lot. He was kind and caring, a lot like you in that department. He loved painting. I remember his room used to be filled with blank canvases." She smiled despite herself. "He always used to sleep on the right side of the bed, insisting it was his lucky side. Who has a lucky side of the bed? I didn't want to keep my son, when I fell pregnant." Her smile fell. "Thomas insisted we gave parenting a try and it worked…for a while. He let me move in but, when I was about a few months away from the big day, he backed out. Said he couldn't go through with it."

"What a bastard," Charlie said vehemently.

"Language," Claire said reprovingly. Then, after consideration, she added, "Yeah, he was a bastard."

Charlie stared at her, also moved by her story. He kept his eyes on her, even as she moved to prepare to feed Aaron. He had to wonder how any man could walk out on _her._ She was so sweet, and so perfect, he couldn't honestly imagine any scenario, any possible situation, which could ever justify someone breaking her heart.

"So, you can understand why I hesitated to trust everyone," Claire continued, turning around so she could keep feeding Aaron a private event. "It wasn't just you I didn't entirely trust at first, but you were the only person who took the time and effort to prove why I should trust you."

"Until I screwed it up," Charlie said grimly. "I arsed that right up."

"Let's not talk about that," she said quickly. "We all make mistakes, Charlie. And you _more_ than made it up to me. If I had a dollar for every stupid mistake I've made…Well, I'd be rich, that's for sure."

"And I'd be a millionaire," Charlie chipped in.

"Here's to making mistakes," she said, turning her head to smile at him, raising an invisible glass with her one free hand.

"And to grovelling after each one," he said, grinning widely, mirroring her gesture.

They fell into a peaceful silence, with Charlie spending the next few moments washing his face and contemplating his own life, and Claire juggling feeding Aaron and wondering how it was possible to be thankful for every single mistake she'd ever made, all because it had led her here, to this moment.

Charlie, meanwhile, was reviewing each one of his mistakes with new eyes. Of course, it was always easier to judge something as being wrong or right with hindsight but, really, apart from that one really dark chapter of his life, he hadn't really had a bad life. And he was getting to enjoy his happy ending now, which most people usually spent a good part of their lives searching and fighting for.

Each day, they were getting to know each other a little more. There were still topics neither of them were willing to talk about in too much detail. For Charlie, it was the whole issue about his drug taking. There were times when he flashbacked to times he didn't even completely remember, and he never liked what he remembered. For Claire, she never liked mentioning her mother that much. Her father, on the other hand, she was pretty happy to bitch and moan about.

They were united by the losses in their lives, united by the pages in their lives they wished desperately they could erase. But, more importantly, they were united in raising this beautiful baby boy, who every day seemed to resemble Claire more and more. Claire was relieved; it meant she didn't have to look at Aaron and be reminded of the fact his no-good, deadbeat dad wasn't around.

What did it matter anyway? So she'd felt a little bit of nostalgia for the days when she'd had nothing else to worry about but keeping Thomas happy, so what?

She had Charlie now. And, really, she'd never been happier.

/././././.

The day rolled by fairly quickly, with no drama which was an added bonus. As the sun rolled past the midday point, Charlie and Claire set about making the caves more homely, or at least less dangerous for Aaron to be crawling about in (since it seemed he was getting to that stage).

Charlie, for most of the day, had been actively improving his DIY skills and had fashioned a crib of some sorts. Although it wasn't even an echo of the fantastic crib Locke had fashioned, it still held together nicely. He couldn't make glue like Locke could but he remembered a tip his father had taught him and had made slots for the wood to slide in, which meant it could be easily taken apart and put back together again. It had taken him the best part of the day to do it, but the beauty of it was that he could do the project without wandering too far.

They were, after all, in the middle of a bloody jungle where wood was hardly a scarcity.

"Done," he said, throwing down his tools triumphantly. "Bet Locke couldn't do _that_ in a day!"

Claire, who was in the midst of entertaining a restless Aaron, smiled at him. She knew men in general had this thing about taking a certain pride in building things for their loved ones. Once they were done, the object in question was usually looked upon as some sort of magnificent piece of architect, even if it wasn't really all that good. Insulting it, however, would've like taking a giant axe and hacking away at their pride.

"It looks good," she said, surprised how honest she was being. "Will it hold?"

"Should do," Charlie replied, examining the crib carefully. "Let's try it out and see…"

Carefully, Claire picked up Aaron and walked over, as Charlie lined the crib with blankets and spare clothing. Gently, she lay the infant inside the crib and felt her smile widen as the crib didn't buckle or collapse. It was a perfect, functional crib.

"Wow. You did it," she said with honest surprise.

He grinned. "Didn't think I could, did you? I didn't either."

"It was a shame the other one disappeared," Claire mused. "But I know I don't need Locke to build me another one anymore." She smiled at him. "Thanks, Charlie."

"No problem."

They locked eyes, wanting to say so much more. It was getting to the point where cautious affection paved way for something much bigger. Desire was starting to weave its way into the equation, something which, out of the two of them, seemed to scare Charlie the most. It wasn't because it was too soon, or that he was scared of letting her down in some way. He was scared simply because he wanted her more than she would ever know and yet, whilst his feelings would never change, he couldn't be sure her feelings would stay the same. Presumably, she'd been in love with Thomas when she'd slept with him, and that kind of experience always left a mark. Having only ever had casual lovers, he'd never been in _that_ place with someone, and he was scared of disappointing.

"You okay?" Claire asked, noticing he seemed to be elsewhere.

He shook himself into the present and gave her his best attempt at a smile. Every day they were growing closer and closer, and it surely wasn't a long time until the day came when they threw all caution to the wind and gave in to their desires. The moment had to be right, and they both had to be ready.

"I'm alright," he said, his trademark smirk emerging. "Just thinking about this girl, that's all."

Claire smirked. "Oh really? Is she blonde?"

"Yep."

"Pretty?"

"Drop dead gorgeous."

"And is her name Claire?"

"No, her name is Amanda."

Claire looked momentarily confused. "Amanda?"

Charlie laughed and splashed some more water on his face.

"Geez, relax, Claire…I was joking…Her name was Tracey," he teased, chortling to himself.

Claire narrowed her eyes and tucked Aaron into his makeshift crib. One sleepy eye followed her as she snuck behind Charlie, a bottle of water in her hand. Then, as craftily as she could, she lifted back Charlie's shirt and poured the water down his back, not stopping until she'd soaked every inch of him. In alarm, he bucked like a horse, jumping around and yelling like he'd been shocked.

"What are you doing?" he spluttered, wiping himself down.

"Cooling you down," Claire replied mischievously. "You were obviously confused and I was concerned you might be suffering from sunstroke."

"Right…" Charlie narrowed his eyes. "This means _war._"

He locked his arms around her waist and started dragging her over to the waterfall.

"Charlie…no!" she protested, giggling. _"Don't!"_

But he didn't listen. He continued to drag her until he'd managed to position her underneath the waterfall. She opened her mouth to yell at him but he splashed some carefully aimed water into her mouth, meaning she had to recover from a few minutes choking before she could try to tell him off. But if it wasn't the water stopping her from yelling, it was the fits of laughter.

"You…I'm going to kill…I mean it…" she managed to choke out.

She reached out and grabbed his shirt as he stood there, bent over with laughter and, using the traditional element of surprise, pulled him under the waterfall as well. He choked as the water came splashing down into his throat and, this time, she was the one bent over with laughter. They spent a few moments splashing each other, like they'd gone back into time and were children again.

All of a sudden, Charlie stood up straight and, ignoring the water soaking him, took Claire's head in between his hands and kissed her. She stiffened with surprise and then, giggling, responded.

"I always wanted to do that," he declared, once they'd broken apart.

"What, kiss under a waterfall?" she snorted, stepping away from it. "You have weird dreams."

He laughed and joined her, both of them halting when they saw Aaron giggling at the pair of them, his entire body rocking with laughter. They turned to each other and smiled, looping an arm around each other as they walked forwards, both of them completely soaked.

"I love you," Claire said suddenly, staring up at him, surprised by the honest truth in her words.

Charlie paused, staring back at her, wondering how each time she said something like that his heart would race up and out of his chest.

"I love you," he replied, pulling her towards him for another kiss. Then, as they broke apart, he added, "Truce?"

"Truce," she agreed, shaking his hand to seal the deal. "I'm freezing anyway."

"I can think of a way to warm you up," Charlie said slyly.

"I don't trust you anywhere near me," she laughed. "At least not for the rest of the day, anyway."

"Aw..." Charlie pouted playfully. "Meanie."

Claire grabbed a pile of clothes from her bag and smirked in his direction, realizing he was beautiful even when soaking wet. His fringe flopped across his face, half covering his eyes, and his shirt was see through, which gave her eyes somewhere to wander to for the next few minutes.

"Get some of your clothes and go change in the jungle," she commanded. "If we're going to have any physical contact, we're going to be dry first."

"Why do I have to leave?" Charlie complained, his eyes shining with mischief.

"Because I'm the lady," Claire pointed out.

"And that makes me what, the tramp?"

"Your words, not mine." Claire smirked. "Don't dish out what you can't take."

"That's what Liam said to me!" Charlie growled, looking as though he was going to lunge forwards again.

Her smirk widened. "Off you go. Unless you want diaper duty for the next week, I suggest you go and get changed."

Charlie looked as though he was about to protest but, with a mock heavy sigh, he grabbed some spare clothes and marched off into the jungle. He wasn't planning to go very far, but he heard voices and curiosity overtook him.

He wove through the trees and saw a couple of men wearing jumpsuits talking quietly in the clearing ahead. They weren't people he recognized, so he had to assume they were some of Ben's people. The only thing was that the jumpsuits bore the Dharma symbol; he recognized it even being where he was. He caught odd glimpses of their conversation, none of it making any sense to him.

"…James LaFleur? You can't make this crap up…"

"….the blonde one? I think she's hot…"

"…meet at the Orchard? Dr. Chang is outlining what we're gonna spend the next three years busting our asses for…"

Charlie retreated, deciding this conversation wasn't suitable for his ears. He turned around and suddenly saw a gun was pointing right between his eyes. The owner of the gun – a dark haired, scowling figure with the name Phil on his jumpsuit – stepped forward, which meant the barrel of the gun was now literally touching him.

"Easy," he said, gulping loudly. "Don't…Don't shoot."

"I think that's for me to decide, don't you?" the man said smoothly, his unpleasant smile not meeting his eyes.

"Please…" Charlie gasped, looking nervous. "I'm not looking for trouble. I heard voices and I…" He eyed the gun, which wasn't lowering itself. "I came out here…and I saw these men…"

"You just happened to come across us here?" spat the man called Phil. "Really? I knew you Hostiles were evil, but I had no idea you were a bunch of dummies. Come on…I'll give you another chance at coming up with a better lie than that."

"No lies, I swear," Charlie promised, sweating now. "Look…my wife is back there…and m-my child. We crashed here and came across th-these caves, where there was water and shade. Go back there if you don't believe me."

The gun was lowered infinitesimally but, even so, Charlie found his breathing eased up a bit. He had no idea what possessed him to lie like that but he somehow knew that these men were not part of Ben's crew. There was a very good chance the flashes had taken them to the Dharma times, although he couldn't be a hundred percent sure about that.

"You with LaFleur's crew?" Phil asked suspiciously. "The group which crashed here on some ship called the Black Rock?"

"Yes." Charlie nodded, not really sure who LaFleur was, but willing to go with the lie all the same. "We're with LaFleur."

"How can I be sure?" Phil asked, raising the gun again. "How can you be so sure you're not a Hostile?"

"I don't know how I can prove it," Charlie said wearily. "If you've already made up your mind to judge me, there's nothing I can do, or say, which will change that."

"Let go of me!" a familiar voice was saying. "Let _go!_ You touch my son and I'll rearrange your genitals to look like Spaghetti Junction!"

He couldn't hide a smile at Claire's remark. She really was quite something to behold when she was angry…providing you weren't the one on the end of one of her hissy fits that is.

A couple of men – also in jumpsuits – came through guiding a thoroughly pissed off Claire and Aaron. Claire saw Charlie and ran to his side, Aaron wrapped up in the Bjorn.

"See?" Charlie turned towards Phil. "My wife and son, and I'll thank you not to lay a finger on them."

Claire looked surprised at the lie but couldn't help smiling, which added to the charade rather nicely.

Phil looked displeased, as though he'd been hoping to shoot someone. He gestured to the men to back off and approached Claire, an unmistakeable leer on his face which had Charlie silently fuming.

"Guess we'll have to take you in then," he said after a moment. "Reunite you with your shipmates."

Charlie instantly panicked at this piece of news, knowing there was not a chance in hell they were going to know these people and, once it was clear both groups didn't know each other, it was only going to end in trouble. He couldn't do that to Claire or Aaron.

But, then again, he couldn't see how they were going to get out of this without looking like liars.

"We didn't know there were other survivors besides us," Claire piped up, noticing the panicked look in Charlie's eyes.

"Oh yeah, three of 'em," Phil said, still staring. "A tall guy, a blonde woman, and a Chinese dude."

Charlie and Claire exchanged a look, before deciding the safest option was to just go with it. There was nothing else they could do when everyone else was armed and they weren't.

"Right…" Charlie said, trying to sound like he knew what they were talking about. "The tall guy being LaFleur…"

"Yep," Phil agreed. "And I was hoping to shoot some hostiles today. Damn it. Maybe next time."

He winked at Claire and then told everyone to move, Charlie fighting the urge to punch him in the face.

"Easy," Claire soothed, as they fell back a little bit. "Just calm down and let's not do anything stupid."

Charlie sighed heavily, but nodded. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She looked worried though. "Aaron's asleep, thank God." A teasing smile fell across her face. "So…I'm your _wife_?"

"It was the easiest thing to say," he said defensively. "It's easier than telling them the truth!"

"I know," Claire replied. "But you just looked unbelievably happy saying it."

"And?"

"Just an observation," she replied, smiling softly.

They walked on in silence, both of them digesting their situation. Claire shifted Aaron ever so slightly, to get comfortable, and he awoke, his wide eyes taking in the fact they were moving. Praying he wasn't about to cry, Claire sang _Catch a Falling Star_ underneath her breath and he stared up at her, not smiling, but not about to burst into tears either.

"We'll be okay," Charlie muttered to her. "Whatever happens, I'm gonna get us through this. Okay?"

"Okay," she whispered back, surprised to find her fear had gone.

She believed he would get them through this, and she trusted him with all her heart. He'd not let her down so far. The fact he wasn't falling apart at the seams right now, even though she could see the panic on his face, proved how much he'd matured in such a short space of time.

"Damn it." Phil stopped short, scowling heavily, glaring down at the walkie in his hand. "There's a situation in the barracks. We can't bring them in."

"Why not?" one of the other men argued. "What's going on?"

Phil gave the most fleeting of glances in their direction – evidently contemplating how much to reveal in front of them – before sighing and scratching his head, his cheeks flushed with stress.

"It's the Hostiles," he said slowly. "They're not happy because some of their people were stupid enough to try and mess with one of us and got caught in the crossfire." He sighed again, glaring at Charlie as if almost daring him to ask a question. "Horace is dealing the best he can but he's not gonna want to deal with these two… Well," he looked at Aaron, "two and a half."

"Charming," Charlie said sarcastically.

"So, what do we do?"

Phil paused to contemplate the situation carefully, his train of thought obviously going very quickly judging by the fact he seemed to be pacing up and down like he was a nervous child awaiting some kind of torturous event, like the long walk towards the principal's office, or waiting to go in to the dentist's.

"Well, Horace is gonna wanna recruit them at some point," he said thoughtfully. "He'll make the same offer to the other survivors. That's what Horace does. He does reckless things and then expects us to clear up his mess. We need a new head of security after what happened to Paul, not to mention numerous other people…"

"Not to be a, um, nudge, but we do have a cranky baby in our midst," Charlie pointed out. "Can we just point out we have no particular interest in joining whatever the hell it is you have going here? We may be, um, awaiting rescue but for now we're doing fine in the jungle."

"I'm the one with the gun, Chief," Phil snapped. "So, if I were you, I wouldn't make any rash decisions." He paused, taking in Claire's somewhat dishevelled appearance. "We've got a sub coming in a couple of weeks if you wanted to get on it," he suggested. "It's bringing in some new recruits, supplies etc…but I'm sure we could squeeze the three of you on board."

This was an awkward and tense moment. How could they politely decline an offer and somehow sidestep the inevitable questioning that would occur? No reasonably sane person would want to stay where they'd crashed. Charlie racked his brains for an explanation but, as it turned out, one of the other men inadvertently came to his rescue.

"Shouldn't we consult Horace about this first? He won't be happy if we shove this lot on the sub and we didn't even tell him about 'em in the first place."

"Maybe you're right. From what I gathered, Alpert's getting involved and we all know he means business. Look, I don't wanna spend my afternoon off babysitting, do you? There's an old shack by the creek, right? Borders right on Hostile territory? I say we stick 'em there and send their friends down to them."

"Yeah, 'cause that's not gonna end up blowing up in our face…"

"Can I just say something?" Claire said suddenly, stepping forward.

The Dharma men stopped talking and turned towards her, their expressions ranging from caution to faint interest. Charlie vaguely recalled that, if this was the time he was thinking of, they were in the seventies, so an outspoken woman was bound to be an unusual occurrence to come across. Not a rarity, no, but certainly under the category of unusual.

"We lied," Claire said shortly, ignoring Charlie's hitched breath. "We didn't come here on the Black Rock. If you want the truth, we've been here a while. I gave birth here, in fact. We have no idea who these other survivors you've found are, and that's the absolute gospel truth." She inhaled deeply, not liking the limelight so much. "Me and Charlie…Well, we're not like any other survivor you'll ever come across. We like it here. We want to stay. But we want a peaceful life. No drama, no fuss. Look, if you leave us here, we won't disturb you. We're not Hostiles. We're just a small family looking for a fresh start."

Phil stared at her, clearly wondering what he should process first. Charlie felt uneasy, if not a little moved by her words. Claire had either thrown them head first into the lion's den…or she had saved them.

As it turned out, Phil was not an easy man to work out. He seemed to be ambidextrous with his facial expressions, in that he could look amused and wear a frown at one and the same time. Charlie sincerely hoped, if things went well, they would never come across this man ever again.

"There's this little cabin we built a while ago when we were first planning the barracks," Phil said slowly, looking only at Claire. "We had no idea where everything was gonna go so we built this trial place away from everything. I'll take you to it. It's better than you living out here in the jungle where the Hostiles are."

Charlie stepped forward as Phil turned to move.

"Why are you helping us?" he asked quietly.

"Because I'm a sucker for a good sob story," Phil said, equally as quiet. "And I like people who are honest." He shrugged. "What can I say? I'm an idealist who still cherishes the good old-fashioned qualities of honesty and integrity." He gave a faint smile in Claire's direction. "Now, let's go before anyone finds a flaw in this which will make me change my mind."

He moved off, gesturing for the others to leave, which they did so with reluctant expressions on their faces. Charlie and Claire moved in turn, the former unable to find the words to express how impressed he was with Claire.

"H – How did you manage that?" he asked, dazed. "Jack couldn't even manage to negotiate his way out of a tight spot like that, let alone someone like me."

Claire didn't look at him, but he saw the smile on her face.

"No more lies, Charlie," she said solemnly. "Remember? No more lies. I wanted us to build our life on openness and honesty. I'm done being kept in the dark, and I'm done keeping others in the dark. You ready to start fresh? To wipe the slate clean and move on?"

Still agog with disbelief, Charlie nodded, his eyes downcast as he remembered every excruciatingly bad lie he'd ever told.

"You got it, Claire. No more lies."

* * *

**A/n: Thank you for the reviews! Your support means everything to me! Some of you may have gathered some of the others didn't get off the island and the explanation for that will be given in due course, although I can tell you the reason behind it was because I wanted to incorporate the season five plot into the bargain. :D Enjoy! Next chapter will contain some more drama, and a surprising visit from an old friend. **


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